


Dame

by AsexualDerek (Cammerel)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Arguing, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Decisions, Bad Flirting, Blood, Bruises, Consent Issues, Creeper Peter, Curiosity, Curious Stiles, Cursed Stiles, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drunk Stiles, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Exploration, F/M, Feels, Female Stiles Stilinski, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Good Peter, Jealousy, M/M, Magic, Magical Accidents, Masturbation, Menstruation, Moral Ambiguity, Non-Consensual Groping, Orgasm, Protectiveness, Rape/Non-con Elements, SUBTLE Sterek Undertones, Seduction, Shopping, Temptation, Tragedy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unwanted Advances, Vaginal Fingering, clitoral stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2017-12-28 17:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/AsexualDerek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets genderswapped by a spell and now both Derek and Scott are acting weird. Why is it Creeper Wolf that’s the only man comfortable enough to look at him while he’s like this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles wasn’t even a part of the fight taking place, the wizard swinging his arm about as their three alphas cornered him, but he knew that the chances of becoming involved were higher than they would’ve been if he was **miles** away.

Stiles wasn’t patient enough to wait back like most of their pack, opting to help out the best he could, by lining the large room with mountain ash. He was just a few feet from completion when a spell came out of nowhere and smacked him square in the chest. It knocked him off balance, like he was hit by a fucking wrecking ball, and he fell backwards into the table of potions behind him.

Winded, he sat up painfully, the bag of mountain ash scattered all over him and the floor below. He stood, about to look down and complain about the state of his clothes (which he quickly realized weren’t wet, though the broken bottles around him suggested otherwise), but stopped.

He felt a sudden sharp shift inside of him, wrenching, painful, like a blade being lifted through his guts. Stiles reached down to clutch at his chest, brows raising when his hands met an unusual softness that he wasn’t really familiar with, and his jacket slackened on his shoulders, falling off of both sides. He gasped as his pants dropped to the floor.

“What?” Stiles reached down to pull them up while in the midst of trying to keep his fucking **boxers** up as well.

Peter heard the commotion that Stiles was making more than he saw it, trying to keep his eyes focused intently on the wizard and at the task at hand. They had him cornered, any and all attempts at escaping were futile. He glanced at Derek knowingly and nodded, then proceeded to do the same with Scott.

The flicker of resignation in the wizard’s eyes was when they attacked, shredding him until his corpse wouldn’t even be identifiable. Peter stood back up and wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand, breathing somewhat labored and he sighed in relief that the entire mess that had ensued was finally over.

Scott lifted his shirt and wiped his face, getting all the blood and sweat before turning to check on Stiles. He’d noticed the wizard casting spells, but it had been essential not to take his eyes from the guy. Now that he was down and taken out, though, the alpha turned to check on his best friend. Eyes widening and mouth parting, he gaped, sputtering nonsensically as he lifted his arm to point at the female who looked **exactly** like Stiles.

“That’s great, guys, really good job there,” Stiles said as he finally pulled the jeans up his hips and held them tightly around his waist as he felt his boxers shift underneath them. He looked at the three alphas, stepping closer carefully as the mountain ash dusted off of his pants, “Thanks for killing the only real way we had of figuring out how to **fix** this.”

Derek turned and stilled as his eyes went over Stiles’s body, a good few times to take it all in before he looked back at the soaked remains of the wizard. He dropped to his human form and rolled his shoulders, “Stiles,” He started in annoyance, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t really _do_ anything,” Stiles defended himself, “I got hit by a spell, it couldn’t be helped.”

“Really, Derek, is blaming other people always your go to?” Peter asked, rolling his eyes at his nephew before looking Stiles over, “The wizard was a nuisance and we took him out.”

He rested his left hand on his hip and looked Stiles over once again, “This...” He gestured vaguely to the younger - _woman’s?_ \- body with his right hand and shrugged, “Is just an... **Unfortunate** downside.” Although, he wasn’t really sure if unfortunate was the right word.

“Oh my God,” Scott breathed, moving closer and looking his friend over in shock, “Stiles, you’re a chick. The wizard like... gave you tits and everything!” The alpha immediately put his hand up over his eyes to shield the view and shook his head, “Oh God, you have tits!”

“Shut up already, I’m aware,” Stiles said, reaching out to shove Scott back as he tried to keep his jeans up, ignoring the dirty look Derek gave Peter, “Are one of you idiots going to offer me a fucking **belt** or something before my pants fall down again, instead of standing there, looking at me?” Like he was a piece of meat all of a sudden.

He actually was kinda surprised with how he felt around them, smaller than before, even **more** gangly - if that was possible. Stiles didn’t expect to feel so unusually intimidated, not that he’d ever thought of what it would be like to suddenly be a woman, but he quashed the feeling at once.

Peter was the first one to shake himself out of the confused stupor, pulling his eyes from Stiles’s body to undo his belt, “Of course, how incredibly rude of us.” He pulled the leather through the loops and folded the belt in half before offering it to Stiles, purposefully keeping his eyes level with the younger man’s.

Scott peeked through his fingers and groaned miserably, “Dude, I’m gonna go wait in the car and try to process all of this. My best friend is a chick...” He moved to the door, “With nice tits. How is this even my life?”

Stiles glared after Scott but reached out for the belt and took it from Peter. He met the older man’s eyes, felt the blush hit his cheeks at once because the alpha wouldn’t turn or look another way, and then broke the stare himself. He fought to keep his pants up as he pushed the belt through each loop and finally buckled it in front, shifting them on his hips and stopping as his chest responded.

Stiles’s brows jumped up his forehead and he pushed his chest down, sliding his hands over them and down to his stomach, “These things are fucking **weird**.”

Derek huffed and rolled his eyes, moving back to the wizard’s body before glancing around the room, walking around the shelves and glancing over the covers of the books curiously.

“'Weird' isn’t really the word I’d use,” Peter said absentmindedly, gaze following the younger man’s hands.

Even with the baggy shirt covering Stiles, he could see the pert little nipples poking out from the shirt and, for a split second, he wished that it was his hands raking down over the younger man’s new body.

Clearing his throat, he pried his eyes from Stiles’s smaller frame once again and moved to his nephew.

“Not to cause a panic, but as he so eloquently pointed out, we likely just killed any and all chance we had at getting him turned back,” The alpha said in a hushed whisper, “What are we going to do? Because _that_...” He looked back over his shoulder briefly, “That is what I’d call a distraction, even Scott couldn’t stop from looking.”

“I know,” Derek said as he turned back to Peter, able to smell the pungent arousal wafting off of the older man and he could empathize, Stiles was _more_ than a distraction - intended or not, “Alan **might** know, but we shouldn’t put our money on it.”

He looked passed his uncle and shook his head, “Call the others. It’s safe to come in, we’ll need their cars anyways, and Stiles’s jeep.”

Stiles looked up at the sound of his name and moved over to them, “My jeep? What about my jeep?”

Derek motioned to the shelves, “There might be something in there.”

“Doubtful, I was hit by **more** than just a spell, there were potions-” Stiles started to say but moved as the alpha’s eyes lit up, “Okay, fine, I guess it couldn’t really hurt to look through everything. Like I wanna be stuck this way.”

Peter pulled his phone from his pocket and sent the rest of the pack a text, letting them know it was safe to go ahead and move on in, and that the wizard had been taken care of. He also informed them to not stare at Stiles when they saw him, even though he knew it was pointless, because they’d stare anyways. It was difficult not to.

“Were you going to call Alan, or would you like me to?” He asked his nephew, shaking his phone a little, “Or were you planning on taking the issue directly to him?”

Derek narrowed his brows, “I don’t care either way,” He said over a growl, watching Stiles’s back and then looking down to where his jeans were shuffling around on the floor, “The sooner he gets fixed, the better.” Stiles was so _small_ compared to before, and Derek watched as the younger man finally took off his jacket and threw it down out of frustration, reaching back out to pull things down from the shelves.

Peter watched as well and couldn’t help thinking that everyone else probably would’ve suffered a little less if Stiles had kept the jacket on. He didn’t voice his concerns, though.

The alpha dialed Alan’s number and stepped to the other side of the room to tell him what was going on just as the pack came barreling in.

Isaac stopped dead in the doorway and his eyes widened. Boyd and Erica all but slammed into his back with the abrupt stop and he stumbled forward, eyes raking shamelessly down over Stiles’s body. If he didn’t still look so much like himself, Isaac probably wouldn’t have been able to tell it was him, but he still _looked_ like Stiles, just a **lot** more feminine.

Erica peeked out from behind Isaac and smiled when her eyes landed on Stiles, flitting down to his chest, then back up again, “Stiles, you might wanna cover up a little more, your nipples are hard.”

Derek moved to Stiles, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder before reaching passed and grabbing the pile Stiles had started making for them, lifting the books and scrolls before walking passed his pack and smirking to himself.

Stiles turned and looked at the pack members, at the way Isaac was staring at him, and he frowned, “They’re just nipples, who **cares** if they’re hard or not,” He didn’t cross his arms over his chest to hide them, rolling his eyes and turning back to the shelf, “Can the rest of you guys help me with these? We need to get them back in the jeep or whatever, so I can go through them.”

“I can help,” Isaac volunteered numbly and nodded, moving forward and filling his arms full, trying his hardest not to look at Stiles - and failing.

Erica sauntered forward and grabbed a couple, hip bumping Stiles as she leaned to whisper in his ear, “If you don’t care that they can see how hard your nipples are, then try not to be so surprised if they pop wood.”

Stiles stared at Erica in confusion and watched as Vernon walked up to them and took a stack as well, face turned away from him in a very pointed manner and Stiles glanced down at himself again in confusion.

Petite was probably how he would’ve described himself, but he hadn’t changed _that_ much, had he? He touched his shoulders, feeling how round they were now, and soft. His shirt had been kind of tight across his chest before, but now hung loose, the collar baggy around his neck and he looked down to the small, perky breasts, nipples pointed and he realized how **obvious** it was that he wasn’t wearing a bra.

He still didn’t really see anything wrong with it, and shrugged, “That’s their problem, not mine,” He said, reaching out to take up a pile of books for himself when Derek joined them again and pulled them right out of his hands, “Uh, okay?” He said, standing back and flailing slightly as he watched the alpha leave the building again.

Peter hung up with Alan and pocketed his phone before moving to Stiles, looking pointedly at the books before giving the younger man a sad smile, “I’ve got bad news and even worse news, which do you want first?” He asked, crossing his arms as he looked at Stiles. He wasn’t going to take it well, regardless of how he spilled the news to him.

“I don’t know, are either of those choices going to make me wanna kill the three alphas in our pack?” Stiles asked, glaring at Peter then, “Just say them, this is bad enough as it is, I **can’t** really see it getting any worse.”

“First of all, you need to keep in mind that we didn’t know, okay?” Peter sighed and took a step back, giving the appropriate amount of room for flailing he was sure that would ensue, “The bad news is, is that you’re loading all of these books and scrolls for naught.”

He narrowed his eyebrows at Stiles and winced, “The even worse news is that you’re stuck like this, permanently. The spell can only be reversed by the wizard who cast it, and well...” He trailed off and shrugged, “Terribly sorry.”

“No,” Stiles shook his head as he blinked and stared at Peter, “No, no, I’m **not** stuck like this,” He looked back at the books, “There’s an answer, there’s an alternative, and I’m gonna find it.”

His insides bunched up at the thought of being stuck this way, but he refused to buckle down and accept it, “You’re wrong,” He said again, turning to grab the next pile of books.

“Fine,” Peter said, grabbing some books as well, “If the only way you’ll believe me is by going through these to find nothing, then I’ll help you disappoint yourself.”

He looked at Stiles for a moment and left the building to load the books into the younger man’s vehicle. It seemed like denial was the first step for everything, after denial would come an emotional shit storm of wailing and tears, something he didn’t really want to be anywhere near.

Stiles ignored Peter’s words and carried his own pile out as well, “Fucking blow me,” He muttered in annoyance as he passed Isaac and carefully stacked the books in the back of his jeep.

His jeans kept shucking further down his hips, reminding him that they weren’t really made for his size anymore and he was seriously tempted to just throw them off and run around in his boxers. He’d probably do it, if he knew they wouldn’t follow without a moment’s hesitation. Those were actually worse, because they weren’t even **on** his waist anymore, they were far down passed his hips, only held up by the crotch of his pants.

Peter smirked at Stiles’s choice of words and gently stacked the books in his jeep, moving back into the building to gather more, passing Erica, Boyd and Isaac on the way.

He was the type of guy who liked to say ‘told you so’, but saying it to Stiles after he fully realized he was stuck in his new body would be somewhat bittersweet. He wasn’t even sure it would be worth it, to rub Stiles’s face in the fact a little more. He knew he could be heartless, but he wasn’t that cold.

Stiles stayed back around the other side of the jeep, out of everyone’s line of sight before he unbuckled the jeans and pulled his boxers back up, this time catching them under the belt so that they wouldn’t slide back down.

He walked around finally, moving to Derek’s hatchback and leaning against it as he looked at Scott, “So, are you okay?” He didn’t like the idea of Scott being uncomfortable around him, considering the guy was his best fucking friend, it didn’t feel right to be avoided by him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, man,” Scott mumbled, glancing at Stiles and frowning, “You’ve just been a guy since we were little kids, and now you’re a girl. It’s a lot to take in. I mean, not trying to take from the fact that you’re the one going through it, but still.”

The alpha huffed and shook his head, “How are you even gonna explain this to your dad?”

“Uh... Probably something like ‘Hey dad, oh, these? Yeah, they’re tits, they just kinda... _Happened_ ’,” Stiles shrugged as he looked across the seats and waved at Allison, “Hey, was wondering where you were.”

Allison smiled and waved back, “Someone needed moral support,” She said, her hand in Scott’s as she looked Stiles over, “No wonder he had to come outside, you’re beautiful.”

“And that’s the last time I’m talking to **you** ,” Stiles said, putting his hands in his pockets and walking from the vehicle.

Isaac had loaded the last of the books in Stiles’s jeep and shut the trunk, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he approached him, “That’s the last of them,” He said, eyes focused a little too intently on Stiles’s face as he fought the temptation to look down. He wasn’t a horn dog and he never had been, and while he wanted to look, he also kind of wanted to respect his friend.

Stiles let out a huff of breath and looked at Isaac, “Thanks,” He said, frowning at the way the taller man was looking at him. Goddamn, Isaac was a **giant** now, “It’s always nice to have our hands busy. Kill Peter, then the Kanima, cure the Kanima, the alphas move in, take care of the alphas and the Darach, meet a mage, kill the mage, meet female me. At least I’ll never be bored...”

Stiles looked down at his chest for a moment, “You know, I **actually** didn’t mean it that way.”

“Right,” Isaac’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded, reaching up to pat Stiles on the shoulder before stalking off to join Scott and Allison.

Peter stood propped against the jeep with his arms crossed, eyebrows narrowed at Stiles. And as much as he wanted to say something to him, he didn’t, he just stared - observing the younger man’s new frame - and finally pushed off to walk away, heading towards his own car.

Stiles waved at Derek as he moved to his jeep and climbed into the driver’s side seat, shifting once he’d sat down and frowning because he was kind of missing his bits, and it felt **really** weird not having them there.

He turned to Lydia and smiled slightly, “So, I take it there’s wi-fi out here.”

Lydia looked up from her phone and nodded, giving Stiles a cursory once over, “It’s weak, though. Sorry I didn’t help load things, didn’t want to scuff my Louboutin’s. I can help you look through them, though, **that** I’m good at.”

“Would be nice, chances are you and me are the only ones that’ll understand what we’re reading anyways,” Stiles said and started the jeep, backing out of his spot and turning them around, following Peter’s car out of the creepy forest they were in, where the trees reached out to one another above, creating an unusual, and kind of neat-looking cave with their branches.

“I need to pick up something to wear, before I get back to the house, because nothing in my closet is gonna fit,” He mused, pressing his lips together.

Lydia practically lit up at the mention of new clothes and shopping, “You have to let me pick out your new wardrobe!” She smiled, squirming excitedly in her seat, “It’ll be so much fun. I haven’t went shopping in like a week, I need a little retail therapy.” Sighing happily, she relaxed back against the seat and began imagining ensembles in her head.

Stiles’s eyes widened and he glanced at her, “Uh, well I don’t really wanna go too crazy, chances are I’ll be back to normal in a week, and I don’t really have much money to spare, so let’s not try to spend every last penny I have on things that are going to the Good Will. But it’ll be good to have advice from a person of the appropriate gender, seeing as I’m not.”

He looked back down at his chest for a moment and let out a tight breath, stopping behind Peter at a red light and remembering the way the older man had looked at him. Stiles didn’t want to get his hopes up, but he’d been sure that it was a look he _liked_.

“We need to shop with the contingency in mind that you may not change back. I know it’s not fun to think about, but it’s a possibility,” Lydia shrugged and smiled sadly at Stiles, “And considering I’m loaded, I’ll pay... So long as you don’t turn your nose up at everything I suggest. And if you do turn back, you’re only a little smaller than Allison, I’m sure she’d take the clothes.”

Stiles nodded as he considered what Lydia was saying, he’d never really had someone **else** pay for his clothes, not including his dad, of course. But he had a feeling that Lydia just wanted to buy shit, so he shrugged and agreed, “Just **one** condition. No heels of any sort, like... _Ever_. I don’t wanna break my neck."

"If you can handle that, I’ll let you do the rest, just as long as I don’t look stupid. And no like... Weird animal things, like ponies or owls on my shirts.”

“No animal prints and no heels, and although I **really** wish you’d reconsider the latter, I can deal,” Lydia smirked and crossed her arms, “You **are** trying on some pretty flats, though, even if I have to wrestle you into them. You need matching bras and panties, too.”

“I don’t even know what flats are,” Stiles frowned at the thought of a bra, and underwear wasn’t really appealing either, though he’d be lying if he’d said he hadn’t worn some before, “I don’t even really **have** breasts, why do I need a bra? Can’t I just get like... A sports bra or something?” He would’ve questioned if they even had them in his size if he didn’t know better, he’d been down that aisle more than once.

“No, you’re not just going to wear a sports bra or _something_ ,” Lydia grimaced and looked at Stiles, “Your breasts may be small, but you still need bras, Stiles, and some cute demi’s from Victoria’s Secret would look killer on you. Don’t fight me on this, you will not win.”

Stiles sighed, but nodded again, “Isn’t Victoria’s Secret supposed to be for like... Show and tell? I’m not getting lingerie,” He drummed his fingers absentmindedly on the steering wheel, “Where are we going first? And how long is this gonna take, because my dad’s probably already freaking out about how long it’s been.”

“Then I suggest you call and let him know you’re going to be a while,” Lydia said, looking at him pointedly, “You can’t rush fashion, and we need the essentials first, so Vicki’s Secret. And for your information, it’s not just for show and tell, you’d be surprised at how good a nice bra can make you feel, same goes with panties - you’ll see.”

“I can see the horns sprouting from your hair,” Stiles murmured as he took a right, watching as Peter kept on forward and he smiled to himself.

It wasn’t often that he actually had a reason to go and **see** the older man, but now he had one. He was thankful that Lydia was the one in the jeep with him, and not another werewolf, because thinking over how the alpha had offered up his belt, staring Stiles in the eyes like he wanted to eat him - and he probably would’ve **let** Peter right then and there, Scott and Derek in the room, he didn’t really care - had Stiles getting so many kinds of worked up and it was weird not to _feel_ anything respond, but also kind of fortunate. That said, he did feel _something_ , more internal than he was used to.

“ **Please** ,” Lydia snorted softly, batting her hand at him, “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be thinking I’m your fairy god mother.”

She glanced down at his chest and narrowed her eyes, humming thoughtfully, “Yours are smaller than mine, so I’m willing to bet you’re an A cup, and given how petite you are, you’d probably only be a 32. Have you even looked at them yet? If I were in your shoes and I turned into a guy, the first thing I’d do would be to check out the merchandise.”

Stiles turned and gaped at Lydia for a moment before laughing, he shook his head though and turned back, “No, but I want to,” He admitted, smirking as he stared at the road.

“I’ve touched them a few times though, they’re **seriously** soft, like... Like nothing I think I’ve ever felt before, it’s weird. But there was Scott and Peter, and Derek there, I couldn’t just strip it all off and start **looking** at parts.”

Everything had happened so fast in the beginning, and he kept feeling like he was trying to get his own hopes up, but he could’ve sworn he’d heard Peter, all breathless, telling him ‘weird’ wasn’t the word he would’ve used, and Stiles was curious as to what he _would’ve_ used to describe Stiles’s new rack.

“Well, at least you’ll be able to check yourself out in the fitting rooms,” Lydia feigned to yawn, “Provided we get there some time today, you drive slower than my grandma. And if I’m being completely honest, I doubt any of them would’ve minded if you **had** stripped down to examine yourself.”

She chuckled, “ _Men_.”

Stiles ignored the comment about his driving, considering he had a dad that was a sheriff, but sped up slightly to compensate, “You didn’t see how it was when I first changed, the look on **Scott’s** face, if that was anything to go by, I probably don’t wanna know what the other two were thinking. And is it normal to just... Be intimidated by them? They’re all like... Like _huge_.”

“I can imagine how you would be, three alpha’s staring at you like you’re a piece of meat and not to mention how much smaller you are, now,” Lydia pursed her lips and grinned, “Being intimidated is normal, I’m sure, but I prefer my men to be intimidated by me, instead. Poor Scott, though, I can only imagine what was going on in that simple little mind of his.”

“I **really** don’t wanna think of Scott like that,” Stiles said, cheeks heating as he finally parked the jeep, “Derek didn’t really say much, he was unusually cold, which probably means that his mind wasn’t far from Scott’s, but Peter... I’m actually wearing his belt, he was like the only one that actually had his shit together, believe it or not.”

“Huh,” Lydia narrowed her brows at that and climbed out of the jeep, fixing her purse on her arm, “That _is_ a little odd, normally Derek is the composed one - brooding, but composed nonetheless. Zombie alpha actually offered his belt? What were the other two doing, standing there slobbering like mutts?”

“Derek was avoiding looking at me, and Scott ended up leaving the building completely,” Stiles said as he climbed out as well, locking both of their doors before closing his.

He joined Lydia on her side and tried like Hell to ignore the feeling of the shirt brushing over his tits, but it was probably the worse distraction in the world, like his boxers constantly rubbing over a swollen head or something - he couldn’t really compare it to anything else, but he definitely didn’t like it.

“Derek avoided looking at you for obvious reasons, likely to keep from getting hard, and Scott... Well, he probably left because I imagine he accidentally checked you out and felt guilty over it,” Lydia’s heels clacked against the pavement and she opened the store doors, ushering Stiles in before she followed.

“But Peter didn’t look away or anything?” She shivered, “God, I hate talking about him, still gives me the creeps.”

“ **I** looked away from him,” Stiles voiced aloud, he knew that Lydia and Peter were still a rough spot in the pack, he probably couldn’t really tell her that he was carrying a torch for the guy, she might kill him or try to exorcize him, “He was doing that 'Peter thing', where his eyes follow yours and stuff. Isaac was pretty bad too, I don’t get it, how exactly do I go from being **Stiles** to being stared at like that? It was like some kind of ‘She’s All That’ scenario.”

“Honey, I don’t think you’ve exactly looked in the mirror yet, have you?” Lydia asked, smiling as she pushed him towards the back of the store and the mirrors on the fitting room doors.

“You’re a little sexpot, sad part is is that you don’t even have to try. I kind of envy you, because all of this...” She gestured to herself, “Not easy to keep up with, and it seems to come natural to you. You’re a natural beauty.”

Stiles looked at Lydia first and frowned, “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, **long** before all of ‘that’,” He motioned to her like she had, then turned to the mirror and stopped to stare at himself.

His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets and he moved closer, reaching up to touch his cheeks. Stiles definitely saw himself, but it was... Weird, how well things fit together. His upturned nose, the state of his hair was amusing, his _lips_ , Stiles wet them and watched the reflection do the same. He was pretty sure **this** was what narcissism felt like.

Lydia smiled and crossed her arms as she watched Stiles’s reaction, “Yeah, see?” She raised her brows and nodded, “ **That** is why you had them all discombobulated; imagine how they’re gonna react after we get you in some form-fitting clothes. They’re gonna be picking their jaws up off of the floor.”

Stiles actually understood why Allison had called him ‘beautiful’, he’d totally wanna fuck himself if he-he tilted his head and smirked, because that was actually something he _could_ do, “I can’t believe this is actually **me** ,” He said then, turning to look at Lydia.

“Alright, where to first?” He asked, looking around the store, because the only thing he wanted to do now was see _everything else_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn everyone, as an aside, that it’s possible fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point. Most of ours seem to go that way. But I’m putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it. PLEASE, don’t go on reading thinking that it’ll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks. That said, there is a LOT more already written of this fic/rp, so no need to worry fer now.
> 
> -WincestSounds


	2. Chapter 2

Lydia bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet and grabbed Stiles by the wrist before leading him to all the bras, pointing enthusiastically at the demi cups and grabbing a couple that looked like they’d fit, all but shoving them at his chest.

She grabbed more than one type of panties, loading her arms full with boy shorts, bikini cuts and thongs, pushing those at him as well before turning him around and ushering him back to the fitting room, “If you’re not too shy after you put these on, I wanna see how everything fits. You don’t want the bras to be too tight or too loose.”

Stiles took the underwear and walked into one of the stalls nervously, “Uh yeah, okay,” He said as he flipped the latch and set down his things, looking at himself a little tentatively now before reaching back and grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling it overhead and stopping for a moment to stare at his chest.

They were small, **seriously** small - but he didn’t mind - almost more areola than breast, as pink as his lips and he turned then, cheeks heating even more as he grabbed up one of the bras and pulled it from the hanger. It took him nearly five minutes to put the damn thing on, but once he had it situated, he kept touching his chest to shift the fabric around and make it comfortable, “The shoulders are loose,” He mused and then saw the little clasps and messed with them for a moment.

Stiles reached for the door, fighting the urge **not** to show her, but unlocked it anyways and pulled it back to meet Lydia’s eyes.

“The straps are adjustable,” Lydia said, stepping back and grinning at the sight before her. She moved forward and reached up to grasp the cups, brows furrowed in concentration, “The cups fit perfectly, though, and that’s what matters.”

She let go and stepped back again, “What size is that?” She asked, smiling to herself, “It was a 32A just like I had predicted, yes? Damn, I’m good.”

She propped her hands on her hips, “Alright, change back so we can go pay and get out of here. You can’t really mess up with panties, so we’ll get you some different kinds so that you can figure out what you like best.”

Stiles stared at Lydia in shock as she felt him up and he watched her, not really able to make out what she was saying until the end.

He nodded and ducked back into the stall, changing out of the bra and putting back on his shirt. He grabbed the rest of the underwear and walked out once more, cheeks practically glowing the rest of the way through the store.

His entire budget on his own, sparingly, would’ve consisted of less than a hundred dollars, but they spent more on things going **under** his clothes than he probably would’ve **ever** thought was reasonable.

* * *

Stiles put the bags in the back of the jeep and climbed back in, “Do girls uh... Do you wear your bras to sleep?”

“You _can_. I think it’s all what you prefer, though,” Lydia shrugged and climbed back into the jeep, “Like I, for example, prefer not to. It’s more comfortable to sleep without one, freeing almost.”

She pulled her phone from her purse and checked for any new text messages before turning to smile at Stiles, “Now, about your clothing situation.”

Stiles started the jeep, looking at Lydia nervously, “I’m not really sure where you’re intending to **go** for that, but I have a feeling it’s not gonna be Walmart, is it?” He nodded knowingly, “Don’t say Macy’s.”

“Mm,” Lydia hummed and batted her eyelashes at Stiles, looking at him knowingly, “Macy’s,” She singsonged and giggled, “Come on, it won’t be so bad. We need to get you some sleep wear, too. I mean, I’m all for looking fabulous twenty-four seven, but it’s nice to lounge around once in a while."

"What about perfume? I know you wore cologne as a guy, so you’re not gonna go all hippy on me are you?”

Stiles narrowed his brows as he pulled out and ran his hand over his mouth, “I don’t really like the idea of smelling like a girl, not that women don’t smell completely **amazing** , but I...” He pursed his lips, “I don’t like the idea of changing _completely_ , what’s wrong with smelling like... Myself?”

Lydia frowned and shook her head before looking out the window, sighing, “You **are** going hippy on me, aren’t you? Let me guess, you’re not gonna shave, either? Predictable. You’re given this amazing opportunity to be a woman and you don’t even take advantage of it, just to see what we go through. This could be a humbling experience for you.”

“I’ve shaved my legs before,” Stiles defended himself, “A **few** times, actually.”

He chuckled, “Not only have I shaved, but I’ve walked in heels, worn flower-y perfume, and worn a dress - trust me, I know what’s me. I don’t need _humbling_. I know what women go through all of the time. Well, there’s a few things I don’t really know, but I’m aware of them. I know about the whole like... 'Make-up is your armor' thing. I’m not a hippy, I’m a guy - and not a stupid one.”

“Whatever,” Lydia breathed, smirking at Stiles and rolling her eyes, “ **Hippy**.”

In all honesty, she was just glad to be helping Stiles pick out clothes and underwear - if he didn’t want perfume and the works, she wouldn’t push... _Too much_.

Stiles looked at Lydia and made a face, “Better a hippy than a tool,” He shrugged, “At least I’m not running outside naked and leaving civilization behind,” He said, grinning widely, “Not that I haven’t actually thought of it.”

“God, you’d never get the guys off of you if you did that now,” Lydia mused and tried to suppress a giggle at the imagery, “Specifically werewolf guys, I bet they like the all natural thing. Hmm, I wonder if perfume irritates their sense of smell... Jackson never says anything, but that’s just because he knows better.”

“Werewolves **do** come off as the like... Earthy smells and musky scents, don’t they?” Stiles mused aloud.

“I’ve never really asked Scott, he just likes mentioning embarrassing smells as often as possible, so he has someone to complain to, but he’s never said anything about like... When he stays over and I shower, or Allison, and if there’s anyone he’d talk about the _smell_ of,” He narrowed his brows, “I guess they can just shut it off though, when they really need to concentrate on another smell instead.”

“Perhaps, it’s definitely food for thought I suppose,” Lydia shrugged and slunk back more against the seat, “Not that it matters, it’s not like you’re trying to woo a wolf or anything.”

Stiles shook his head, his heart racing a little as he clutched the steering wheel a bit tighter, “Nope, no, not like I am at all,” He said, swallowing as he stared ahead, “Definitely not trying to woo a wolf.”

Lydia narrowed her eyes curiously at Stiles’s tone and turned in her seat a little, staring at him intently, “Okay, spill.”

She crossed her arms, “You’re a horrible liar, Stiles. Who is it, Isaac?”

“I may be a horrible liar,” Stiles said, voice light as he glanced at Lydia and wet his lips, “But trust me when I say it’ll put a **huge** dent on our new-found friendship, if I tell you who it is. Like, you’ll kill me, or something.” As if that didn’t tell her who it was already, and Stiles **knew** she was smart.

Lydia gaped as she stared at him, frowning almost as she sighed, “It’s Peter, of course it is. Why can’t you ever like anyone normal? Isaac would’ve been good, but no, you'd rather go for the unattainable and nutty. I can’t believe you like Peter, _why_ him?”

Stiles frowned and shrugged, “I don’t know, it kinda came out of nowhere. I mean, maybe I was a little attracted to him before, when he offered me the bite, but over like... The past year, it’s just been growing at an alarming rate,” He let out a huff of breath.

“I’m aware it’s not really _right_ , but I can’t help it. I don’t wanna defend him and start telling you _all_ of the things I find attractive about him. I know you hate the guy.”

“Hate is an understatement,” Lydia said, shaking her head as she looked at Stiles, “But I’m not gonna wax poetic about my hatred, you know what he did to me and what he’s capable of. But if I trust anyone’s judgement in this pack, it’s yours. I’m not okay with it, though, just for your information. You’re so out of his league it’s insane.”

Stiles shook his head as he chuckled, “I’m not out of anyone’s league, but thanks, I’m... Glad you think so,” Even if it **was** a bit late, it was nice to hear.

“Just because I like him doesn’t mean I approve of what he did to you, you know I don’t, and I never will. I don’t even have a chance with the guy, but that’s probably what I go after, so I just have to accept it. I just... Maybe I can help him **not** do something like that again.”

Lydia turned away finally and looked out the window, voice softer than before, “You want to be his anchor... For all intents and purposes. You wanna tame the beast.”

She crossed her legs and shrugged, “Wish you could’ve stopped him from doing it in the first place.”

“If I knew he was doing anything at all, I would’ve tried,” Stiles said, reaching out and taking Lydia’s hand.

He stopped at the red light and looked at her, “I would’ve done everything I could, to help you, I hope you know that. Hell, I tried even when I **didn’t** know anything was wrong, probably more than you know. It wasn’t enough, but I care about you, and I **won’t** let it happen again.”

Lydia tightened her fingers around Stiles’s almost instinctively and turned her head to look at him, smiling sadly, “You’re such a sweetheart. If you do end up with him, I hope he knows he doesn’t deserve you, and if he doesn’t, I’ll tell him.”

Stiles grinned and kept her hand in his, even as the light changed and he started back up again, turning into the Macy’s parking lot one-handed and squeezing her fingers in reassurance, “Dad blames it on my mom, she kinda turned us both into teddy bears,” He pulled his hand away finally and parked, unsnapping his seatbelt and climbing from the jeep.

“Sounds like she was a good woman,” Lydia said, climbing out of the jeep as well, running her hands down over the front of her dress to flatten it out, “Definitely raised you right... Now...” She cleared her throat and changed the subject, “Let’s go find you some jeans that show off that nice little ass of yours.”

Stiles joined Lydia on her side of the jeep again, “Will definitely be nice wearing a pair of pants that actually **fit** , and to think I wore one of my tighter pair today,” He said, still kind of thrown off by the slight weight on his chest, “I’m pretty lucky I didn’t change and have bigger tits, any bigger than this and I don’t think I would’ve had the patience for them.”

Lydia linked their arms together and drug Stiles into Macy’s, “You’re lucky, though. You’d rather have small and perky than big and saggy.”

She looked around for a moment and stalked off to get a cart before joining Stiles’s side again, “Okay so, what’s your policy on dresses and such? Or are we sticking strictly to jeans and t-shirts?”

“Uh...” Stiles hadn’t actually thought of _dresses_ , not even for a second. His face scrunched up, “Umm, I’d have to shave for dresses,” He mused aloud, “I don’t think I’m a fan of them, personally, but I might consider shaving, for a good skirt.”

It was a weird thing to admit to, but it was the truth - he liked skirts, skirts were fucking sexy. Lydia had probably converted him where those were concerned, though.

“Okay, so no dresses, but yes to a killer skirt,” Lydia bumped Stiles’s shoulder with her own and smiled at him, “This has been kind of fun, we need to hang out more often.” Though, she had a feeling that if he turned back, they probably wouldn’t spend much time around one another. This entire thing had just sort of been a blessing in disguise, even if Stiles didn’t see it as such.

“You’re just saying that because you’re a shopping addict,” Stiles said, grinning wider and glancing around the store, “But yeah, I think it’s been fun so far, I mean, I learned how to put on a bra, that’s kinda saying something.” He raised a brow at a woman that looked at him weirdly and motioned to his chest as if to say ‘like I need one’.

Lydia began hauling Stiles off to the shirt section, pulling them from the rack and holding them up in front of him with her lips pursed, “You look like a small, and as much as I’d really love to do your entire wardrobe, I’m afraid some input from you is required."

"I’ll put things in the buggy and you can go through them, eliminate what you don’t like, but I should warn you, my taste is impeccable.”

Stiles sifted through the things she was setting out on the sides of their cart, and suddenly it felt like he was kind of... Dressing up a doll or something. He was in this new freaking body, and all guys argued that women **do** get to do the fun stuff - looking cute or hot at the turn of a dime - and he was actually _thin_ enough, and attractive, for a change.

He kind of liked the idea of having a body to put pretty things in. So instead of saying ‘no’ to everything, because they were either too girly, or too revealing, he just let her - he kinda wanted to see it **all** on him.

Lydia raised her brows appreciatively at how little Stiles was taking out and continued to pile stuff in; crop tops, cute graphic t-shirts, baggy (but stylish) shirts.

When the buggy was practically full of nothing but tops, she pushed it around to the pants section.

“I wonder what size jeans you wear now, you’re thinner than Allison and she’s a 4,” She tapped her lips with her finger and grabbed the same pair of jeans in sizes 3, 2 and 1, “There’s a fitting room right around the corner, go try these on so we’ll know what size to grab for you.”

Stiles nodded and took them, “Okay, be right back.”

He left her with the cart, meeting the eyes of the woman at the fitting room entrance and snagged a card with the number three. He shut the door behind himself and set the pants up on the hanger, unbuckling the ones he was wearing and pushing them down his thighs as he stepped out of his shoes.

He actually had to **hold up** his fucking boxers, just to get everything off, and then stopped for a moment to observe his legs, still hairy, of course, but thinner for sure.

Stiles pulled his eyes from the mirror and started with the 3's, putting them on but frowning when they were still loose. He changed quickly and tried on the 2's, they were snug, comfortable, and sitting down was easy. He tried the 1's and shook his head the moment they passed his thighs.

He actually planned to **breathe** so he pushed them back off and changed into his old jeans, fixing them up and joining Lydia once more, “Two,” he said, cheeks heated as he put the others back.

“So lucky,” Lydia sighed enviously and grabbed a bunch of size 2's, “I’d kill to be that thin.”

She smiled at the cute little black skirt and grabbed it before tossing it in the cart as well, along with shorts and a couple of cute rompers. She paused and turned to look down at Stiles’s feet, “I wonder what size shoe you wear, now. Those are too big, right?” She pushed the cart out of the clothing section and walked towards the shoes.

“Kind of,” Stiles mused as he shifted his feet and looked down at them as well, “Maybe like a half a size shorter, I’m seven in men’s, so six and a half instead, and that’s... Seven and a half in women’s? Eight?”

“I’m pretty sure women’s sizes are smaller,” Lydia said, stopping to look at some muted colored flats, “Everything else on you is petite, I’d be surprised if your feet weren’t as well. We can try a seven, but I’m feeling a six.”

She grabbed the flats and handed them to Stiles and gestured for him to follow her, grabbing a pair of black female converses and a bright pink pair as well, “Here, go try all of these on.”

Stiles didn’t argue, he was a hundred percent positive that men’s sizes were smaller, but he nodded and took the shoes, then reached out and grabbed the eights of the converses as well. He found a small bench on the end of the isle and tried them on, nodding knowingly before returning to Lydia once more.

“Eight,” He said, holding up the converses he’d taken down, smirking as he said it.

“Okay, show off,” Lydia glared at him and raised her brows before snatching the shoes from him to put them in the cart. She grabbed a pink pair in size eight and sat them on top of the clothes, then proceeded to grab a couple pair of flats in different colors.

“Okay, we’ve got undergarments, clothes and shoes, do you need anything else?” She asked, propping her hands on her hips.

“You tell me, fairy god mother, you’re the queen of shopping, after all,” Stiles joked, he wanted to lean over and kiss her on her damn forehead, she was too adorable.

It wasn’t often that he got to one-up Lydia Martin, that was for sure, he had to take it where he could get it. But he resisted acting out, because he wasn’t really sure where their comfort zone started and ended, “It’s already about ten times as much as I would’ve gotten, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” Lydia agreed, because she couldn’t really see Stiles going out on his own to do all of this, “You owe me a girl’s night out, that’s for sure.” She winked at Stiles and grabbed the cart, “Okay, let’s get out of here. I’m one hundred percent confident it’s all gonna fit, and if it doesn’t, I’ll give you the receipt so you can make exchanges.”

Stiles followed after her, ignoring the looks of a few men walking passed him and he turned into Lydia, “What does a girl’s night out entail?”

* * *

Stiles dropped off Lydia for the night, agreeing to meet back up with her the next day. He parked in his driveway and climbed from the jeep, taking the bags in and carrying them upstairs.

His dad was sitting in the livingroom watching tv, and Stiles saw him look up for a moment, brows raised, but Stiles didn’t say anything as he rushed by and was in his room before the sheriff could react to his appearance.

He dressed down at once, stepping out of his shoes, slipping the jeans back down his thighs and throwing off his shirt. He sifted through the bags, grabbing the bra and putting it on first and foremost, some soft little blue number that he didn’t really look at before he pulled one of the boy short under wears out and stepped into those.

Next were the jeans, and he probably dressed into those a little gracelessly, but he didn’t think much of it as he buttoned them, trying to look over his chest as he did so. He would never understand how women dealt with **more** than an 'A' cup, because it was already frustrating.

Stiles pulled the shirt on last, something cute with a wide collar and he stopped, looking down at it and running his hand over his chest curiously. As much as he wanted to stay and have more fun, he had a serious talking to that wasn’t going to be easy.

He grabbed his converses and put them on, taking his keys and his phone and tucking them both in the back pockets of his jeans before finally rushing back downstairs.

Stiles stopped at the foot of them and took a breath, turning to the livingroom and meeting his dad’s eyes as he held out his arms, “So, uh... We kinda need to talk about _this_.”

“Need to talk about wha-?" The sheriff stopped when he finally turned his head to look at Stiles, and for a split second he wasn’t even really sure if that’s who it was. The resemblance was uncanny, though, and his eyes widened as he moved forward, trying to push himself up off the recliner and he almost tripped because he wasn’t watching where he was going.

“You-...” The older man shook his head and the longer he looked at Stiles, the more he saw the boy’s mother, “What on God’s green Earth did you go and get yourself into?”

Stiles bit his bottom lip as he stepped forward tentatively, “Well, that mage uh...” _fucker_ , “Guy - the pack was fighting him and he kinda hit me with some spell and, yeah,” He looked down at his body, “We’re not really sure how to fix it, **yet**. But I’ve got all the books and stuff from his lair, so hopefully that’ll... There’ll be something in there that can fix me.”

“ _Lair_...” The sheriff repeated incredulously, “The-the wizard, the 'mage' guy you told me about did this?” He asked rhetorically and then nodded, “Of course he did, because that makes sense,” He said dryly.

The older man scratched the back of his head as he looked his son over, “I keep forgetting all of this supernatural mumbo jumbo is real...” Running his hand over his face, the sheriff sighed and met his son’s eyes, “And you say there’s something in the books, something in there that’ll fix this?”

“Hopefully,” Stiles said, smiling sadly as he watched his dad, nervous of stressing him out, “It’s fine, we’re on it. All the stuff is in the back of the jeep, I just gotta read around and chances are he’ll have the cure for it written somewhere, easy as lying, seriously, dad. No need to stress, or worry about it, shouldn’t be longer than like... A week, _tops_.”

“A week,” The older man nodded as he continued to stare at Stiles’s face, “You look like her,” He said numbly, frowning and fighting the tears threatening to sting his eyes. He was stressed, sure, but it also wasn’t easy looking at Stiles when he resembled his mother so much - now more than ever.

"Just get it taken care of," The sheriff patted Stiles on the shoulder and moved to go up the steps.

Stiles felt his insides twist at his dad’s words and reached out to stop him from leaving, he walked forward and hugged him tightly. He was actually **way** shorter than his dad now, it was a little weird, but he didn’t really mind it - it kind of made him feel like a kid again.

He pulled back and took out his keys, “Night, dad,” He said as he walked out of the front door to get the books from the back of the jeep.

Little by little, he took his time bringing things up the stairs over and over again, until all of it was relieved from his jeep. Stiles could finally lock up both his vehicle and the house, before settling himself back upstairs and taking to the work.

It was a special kind of Hell, looking through things and resisting the urge to touch himself. Because he knew that, if he did, he’d never get back to reading through the books and notes.

Stiles started with the scrolls, pouring over them and reading things carefully, but also quickly, just enough to make sure it wouldn’t contain what he was looking for.

It was nearly four in the morning before he finally laid down, removing his new clothes and piling everything up on the opposite side of the bed as he dressed in one of his older shirts, changing into his boxers because they were loose and comfortable enough to sleep in.

This was impossible not to take advantage of, even though he was dog tired, and thrown off by the whole thing. He lifted his shirt, keeping the blankets back as he touched his chest and stared down at his hands as he did so. He wet his fingers, sighing in relief as he ran them over the soft, pink, hardening nipples.

Stiles’s body arched and he cupped his breasts, pinching them gently and squirming slightly. He still found it fucking weird that he couldn’t get hard, but he felt that other thing from before - this sort of phantom feeling - like the feeling of having a dick and, if it was there, it’d be fucking **hard** as Hell.

He reached down impatiently, pushing both of his hands into his boxers as he spread his legs. Stiles’s fingers touched his clit first and his eyes widened, hips bucking into the touch as he bit his bottom lip and whimpered, “ _Fuck_ ,” He turned his head into the pillow.

Stiles's fingers moved further, reluctantly, dipping into the slippery warmth just beneath, and he understood the term ‘wet’ at once. Still, it was more slimy than wet, and he smeared the juices back up, over his clit, sighing as he did so and his body turned and curled against the bed, knees bending up towards his chest as he continued touching himself.

The most frustrating part about it, he learned after nearly ten minutes of going about it - tasting himself, teasing his nipples, bucking into his fingers - was that he couldn’t build it ‘up’ like he could when he jacked off. That, and his hands were starting to hurt, it was fucking **exhausting**.

Stiles turned over and over, unable to find some fucking sense of relief, or get enough friction to even come _close_ to getting off. He got to the point where he’s stripped off the boxers and was writhing against pillows shamelessly, cheeks heated as he gasped and straddled the cotton. But he **still** couldn’t fucking get off.

Finally, after an hour and a half, he gave up and just fell asleep. He was still horny as Hell, his naked body curled around his blanket, the pillow clutched between his legs.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles woke up the next morning, body tornado’d around his blanket and pillow, he turned and stretched, spine arching off the bed as he reached down to touch himself, but stopped as he remembered he couldn’t really **do** that.

He had this new body, and he couldn’t even use it properly, and he still woke up with that phantom sense of morning wood, only he didn’t have the tool to get off with. He tried again this time, already soaking wet from his attempts the night before, juices heady and he tried for nearly an hour, _again_ , before he gave up.

He climbed from the bed, a little put off, and dressed quickly. He wasn’t sure how often women changed bras, so he put on a different one this time, a black, lacy one that made him stare at his chest for a good while before promptly trying to get off a third time.

But, as he was quickly discovering, it was impossible to get off as a woman. He had to be doing something _wrong_ somewhere, he just wasn’t sure what.

He pulled on a pair of matching panties, and then jeans that were dark blue, followed by a seriously adorable [top](http://media.tumblr.com/53de0fdfb82e67635bce14542a37b246/tumblr_inline_mw7etxFoff1rniey4.png) that had like... Too much space between the end of his shirt and the hem of his jeans. As much as he tried to pull it down, it wouldn’t give. The little bat thing on his chest was cute, and he kept wanting to put something over his bare shoulders, so he grabbed his old white jacket and pulled it on. It actually fit well, surprisingly, but his stomach was still showing.

Stiles went to the bathroom to check it in the mirror and stopped, tilting his head as he looked himself over before nodding - _whatever_. He didn’t look half bad, so he ran with it, walking back out and putting on his socks and converses.

He grabbed his backpack from the door, filled with a few scrolls and books to look over while he was out, stuffed his cell in his pocket once he’d sent a quick text to Peter before taking up his keys and the alpha’s belt.

‘ **You’re at your house, right?** ’

* * *

Peter had been enjoying a new episode of Survivor that he had recorded on his DVR when his phone buzzed and he paused the television to lean forward, grabbing his phone from the coffee table and unlocking the screen. It was Stiles, which wasn’t extremely uncommon, considering they were in the same pack, but it was kind of early.

The younger man probably finally realized that Peter had been right, and that there wasn’t a way for him to turn back. If that were the case, though, he probably would have called or showed up to chew him out. He responded promptly and then tossed the phone down next to him.

‘ **No, Stiles, I stayed all night at a lady friend’s. You know how booty calls are... Wait, you probably don’t. Of course I’m at home, dipshit. It’s not even 11 yet.** ’

* * *

Stiles rolled his eyes at the response and ignored the sharp pang inside of his chest.

That was the worst part about carrying a torch for an older man, the cold realizations that he would often be with women, older women, more experienced women, women in general - which he actually now **was**. Maybe that would give him **some** kind of chance with the alpha - at least more so than he’d had before. He could take that.

That said, he still didn’t like the thought of Peter sleeping around, hooking up with someone that wasn’t him, and Stiles couldn’t imagine it being difficult for the older man to find someone to wet his dick for him, which only made things worse.

‘ **I’m hoping you have more class than that, sleeping around is so 1970's,** ’ The message started, and he hoped it was innocent enough, ‘ **Speaking of 1970's, I have your belt, so I’m gonna drop it off there, seeing as you’re awake.** ’

* * *

‘ **I’m the epitome of class AND I enjoy casual sex, sleeping around is perfect for a guy like me who doesn’t want to be tied down... And I can’t catch anything, so I don’t see why I shouldn’t.** ’

Peter raised his brows at his phone as he typed out the message and hit send, realizing what the little shit said about his belt, he typed out another one.

‘ **And I know you’re not making fun of that belt or my fashion sense, the belt alone probably cost more than that heap of junk you drive.** ’

* * *

Stiles wanted to offer up his **own** body for casual sex with Peter, casually, on a casual basis, daily, even. He couldn’t just say that, but he wanted to. He decided to ignore the first text and took the easier route of responding to the second.

‘ **I don’t care how much it costs, but it’s in my hand rn so if you want me to cut it in half with a pair of scissors... You’ll insult my jeep again. Because to me, it’s just a belt. My jeep is perfect, you can’t fight me there, what ELSE would I drive, rly?** ’

Stiles climbed into the jeep, pausing again because he couldn’t get over how fucking _weird_ it was not to have junk there. He reached down, situating his jeans for a moment and then checking his chest again mindlessly, pressing them down a few times before cupping them instead.

Stiles was about to jam the keys in the ignition when he looked over and their next door neighbor was staring at him from a few yards away, watering his lawn and the guy’s eyes were a bit wide. Stiles smiled tentatively and lifted his chin in recognition, waving before he yanked on his seatbelt and started the jeep up, pulling from his parking spot and peeling away.

* * *

‘ **Cut my belt in half and I’ll be forced to mar your pretty new body, Stiles, don’t tempt me.** ’

Peter turned his attention back to the television and sat his phone down, awaiting the inevitable - Stiles coming over and barging in like it was just a thing he did, like he owned the place or something. He’d brought it up once before and all he got was an eye roll from the boy, nothing else.

Almost the entire pack couldn’t tolerate him, so it figured that the only one who **could** got under his skin.

* * *

‘ **You couldn’t even hurt me when you were Darth Peter, like I actually think you’d hurt me now. I specifically remember TELLING you to kill me, and you still couldn’t. Nice threat tho, I don’t take them srs unless you’ve proven to me you’d ACTUALLY do it. ;)** ’

Stiles reached Peter’s apartment in less than half an hour, parking by the older man’s car and grabbing his belt.

He jumped down from the jeep and locked it, closing it and stuffing his cell in his pocket before moving to the door and trying the knob. It was like the guy **wanted** him to just barge on in unannounced, only normal people actually lock their doors, so he opened it and walked in.

Stiles locked the door behind himself and tossed the belt into Peter’s lap, not really caring if the alpha caught it or not. He fought the urge to cover his bare stomach and sat on the couch instead, “This the new Survivor?”

Peter sighed when he heard Stiles help himself inside, turning the belt over in his hand to inspect it after the younger man dropped it into his lap, ignoring the question because Stiles had eyes and he could very well see what was on the television.

“No marks, I guess you’re-" He glanced up to actually look at Stiles and paused, mouth hanging open slightly as he took in his appearance; the tight, skinny jeans and a shirt that was entirely too short to be considered as such.

Realizing he was staring shamelessly, the alpha cleared his throat and shook himself out of his stupor, finally meeting Stiles’s eyes, “Safe... You’re safe for now.”

Stiles raised a brow at Peter and, though he wasn’t sure the older man was approving of his look, he knew he’d caught Peter off guard, “It’s nice, isn’t it?” He tried, smirking as he stretched a bit, “I thought so too, especially when I got to see _all_ of it. Trust me, this is nothing.”

From a guy’s perspective, he could **definitely** understand Peter’s look and mind set. Sure, he was still Stiles, but the body was good, no doubt there. Maybe if he tempted the alpha enough, he could overlook the ‘Stiles’ part.

Peter huffed and turned his attention back to the television, “Narcissism isn’t flattering, Stiles.”

He wasn’t about to admit that the new body was more than aesthetically pleasing, because knowing Stiles, it’d just go to his head. Then again, if he’d seen Stiles **before** the change in such a short, revealing shirt, he probably would’ve reacted the same. The kid’s personality was sketchy at best, but he could appreciate a nice body when he saw one.

“Yeah, okay mister ‘with a face like this, why wait’,” Stiles said, attempting Peter’s sassy pouty voice, not bothering to be put off by the older man’s words, “I’m allowed to be narcissistic about this, it’s the first time I’ve ever been attractive, I’m not gonna argue it. Best to enjoy it while I have it.”

“Well, you should really just go ahead and get used to it,” Peter said, glancing at him and smirking, “I’m telling you, you’re stuck and you’re not going to find anything in those books to turn you back. Embrace your new body, because it’s not going anywhere.”

“It’s not **my** new body, it’s just **a** body,” Stiles said, turning in his seat, “I don’t think it’s even like... Made for me, it’s broken or something. It looks good, it just doesn’t really... Work right,” He narrowed his brows, trying to think of how to better explain it, “It’s not my body.”

“It **is** your body,” Peter argued the younger man, “It is, now, whether you like it or not.” He furrowed his brows at the ‘broken’ part and shook his head, “What do you mean about it being broken?”

He glanced over Stiles’s body once more, “You look fine. This is just you being dramatic, isn’t it?”

Stiles blushed as Peter looked him over and he shook his head, “I wish I was just being dramatic, it’s like a dude’s worse nightmare,” He said, looking away, “I just, I dunno, I thought women were supposed to be like... _Easier_ , I guess. They’re definitely more sensitive, but it’s like it doesn’t really go anywhere. It’s fucking weird.”

“Oh dear lord,” Peter’s eyes widened and he reached up to press his fingers to his temples, “I have an eighteen year old in my livingroom complaining about not being able to get off.”

He turned to look at Stiles, “That **is** what you’re doing, right? Complaining because you don’t know how to work the machinery? It’s called practice, Stiles, and seeing as how you’re now permanently stuck in that body, you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what works for you.”

Stiles wet his lips, talking to _Peter_ about the body he was currently occupying was a little weird, and unusually arousing. He knew the female body about as well as a text book, and diagrams, and porn, could tell you, but he didn’t have a doubt in his mind that Peter knew how to work the machinery. The guy could probably do things to Stiles with just his **hands** alone that Stiles couldn’t even spell, let alone try and imitate.

He looked at the alpha, at his hands - the thicker, rougher fingers - and imagined them doing what he’d been _trying_ to do all morning. Stiles shifted slightly as he felt that burning, coiling sensation inside of him and he just wanted to fucking rub one out, but he couldn’t.

“Yeah, I get that,” He agreed, “But I ‘practiced’ for like... Five hours collectively now, it’s insane. I don’t understand how women ever have the patience to get anywhere with trying to get off.”

Peter breathed in slowly and was taken aback by the sudden arousal he smelled, turning to narrow his eyebrows at Stiles, “They just do, and they have a lifetime to figure out what gets them off. You’ve been female for all of a day, it’ll come to you in time. If not, I suggest you find someone who knows what they’re doing.”

He continued to stare at Stiles for a moment and furrowed his brows when he noticed the younger man looking at his hands. Inwardly, he weighed the pros and cons of teaching the younger man himself, mainly because he was starting to believe that that was what the kid wanted - if not, then the blushing and staring were a little off-putting (not to mention Stiles bringing the topic up with him of all people in the first place).

The alpha shook himself out of his daze and decided that it’d be a horrible idea, turning his attention back to the television.

“I figured that stuff out when I was like... Six, I seriously shouldn’t have to figure it out **again** ,” Stiles tried to ignore the fact that he was kind of revealing a lot about himself, but people normally knew that he was unusually sexual for a virgin.

Still, it was Peter, and though Stiles _wanted_ him to know those things, he didn’t really know if the alpha wanted to know them in turn, “You try being use to getting off like three times a day, and then magically **changing genders** and being told to learn it all over again, it’s frustrating. I shouldn’t have to try so hard with something that’s normally easy.”

“A woman’s body isn’t the same as a man’s, Stiles, and while you may know all about it, actually doing it is a different ball game,” Peter shrugged and kept his eyes on the show.

“The situation you’ve been put in is unfortunate, I understand, but pissing and moaning about not being able to get your new body to do what you want it to after one day is a little... Melodramatic. If getting off is that important to you, they make toys...”

He glanced over at the younger man briefly, eyes raking down over his body, “And if a toy isn’t what you want, I doubt you’ll have any trouble finding someone to lend a hand.”

Stiles swallowed tightly as he felt Peter’s eyes on him and the thought of using a toy just seemed like a cheat.

He probably **was** being melodramatic, he could agree there, “I’m not easy,” He assured Peter, “I’m not just going to sleep with anyone. Honestly, I’d rather do it myself,” He said stubbornly, though it probably sounded like a lie.

He knew who he wanted to do it, but Peter, though he was often creepy as Hell, would never be an option. It hurt to admit, and Stiles didn’t like to, but he wasn’t blind. Peter was just another Lydia, “I’m not gonna just give my first female orgasm up to some idiot that doesn’t even know my name, that’s not who I am.”

Peter chuckled at the little blip in Stiles’s heartbeat, “It wouldn’t matter to me if that **was** who you are, because there’s nothing wrong with it. But since you seem to actually be more of a demisexual kind of person, perhaps you should give it to Scott... Judging by the way he was looking at you yesterday, he wouldn’t mind.”

“Scott?” Stiles raised his brows, “Like best-friend-Scott? Uh, yeah, no. I’m not a demisexual,” He shook his head and looked at Peter incredulously, “I’m not really sure what makes you think I would be. Considering my attraction to **Lydia** , hello? I’m sure you knew about that, and she didn’t even _know_ me.”

“If you don’t want me to assume as much then stop bagging on casual sex, what am I supposed to think?” Peter raised his brows at Stiles, “You’re acting like a twelve year old..." He sighed, "I’d encourage you to give it to Isaac, but I’m not sure the kid would know what to do with it.” He was slightly confused as to why they were still actually talking about this.

Stiles nodded silently and didn’t respond back. It was his issue, not Peter’s, clearly. He had a hard time reading the guy, but it was like the more he talked to the alpha, the less he learned. All he got was that Peter was only a creeper to women, and women that were recently changed into women didn’t count.

Being referred to as a child didn’t help in the slightest, and he kept suggesting people Stiles’s age. It also didn’t help that the guy he was fucking attracted to had about as much interest in him as a goddamn spoon, and instead liked making jokes at his expense.

He was well aware that Peter could just fap and get off all he wanted, or grab the nearest girl and fuck her brains out, but he didn’t have to rub it in Stiles’s face.

He stopped a second and then turned to Peter, “Why do you keep suggesting guys?”

Peter shrugged flippantly, “My next suggestion was going to be Erica, you just seem like an equal opportunist... Am I wrong?” He asked, smirking at Stiles, “I don’t think I’m wrong.”

Stiles stared at the older man silently, brows narrowing as he watched him, “I think you assume a lot of things about a lot of people, and then assume that because you can assume things, that you must always be right. For a person that knew my name, and the fact that I was the ‘smart’ one, you don’t know much beyond that, do you?”

Stiles smiled back, “You assume I’m demisexual **just** because I’m not humping the leg of every person around, and then you assume I’m pansexual because I... _Seem like it_. You’d make a horrible detective, I see why you were the one asking me where the materials were located on a set of blueprints, it all makes sense now.”

Peter turned a little more bodily on the couch and smiled at Stiles, ignoring most of what he said, “So you don’t like men, then?” He asked, kind of curious, “If I don’t know and you don’t want me to assume, then tell me. What is it that does it for you, Stiles? Women, men, or both?”

“It’d be pretty easy to tell you either way, you seem to be relatively accepting of the broad spectrum of people,” Stiles mused aloud.

“You actually knew what demisexuals were, and only ignorant, close-minded people wouldn’t know that term. So I think it’s safe to assume I could tell you I was gay, and not have to worry about it. But I’m not gonna tell you. Mostly because you asked point blank,” He admitted, smirking and raising a brow in challenge as he stared back.

He liked that Peter was curious, it was a bit intimidating, but he was okay with that, “I’d like you to actually try and figure something out on your **own** for once, instead of expecting me to just hand it over to you. You’re a smart man, stop assuming things, and actually use that brain.”

Peter smiled even wider and nodded slowly, “Okay, since you want me to figure it out myself.” He liked a good challenge, anyways, especially ones where he could use both his body and his charms.

The alpha turned the television off and scooted closer, still smiling as he reached up and brushed Stiles’s cheek with the back of his knuckles, “You know, this really isn’t fair to you, having to subject you to my moves...” He said softly, putting his other arm up behind Stiles’s shoulders, “But seeing as you won’t tell me, I guess it’ll have to work.”

Stiles stilled, blinking in surprise as he stared at the alpha. Peter was so close, it was insane - was the guy actually pretending to flirt with him to find out if Stiles was interested in men?

He swallowed and tried to keep calm, keeping his eyes set on Peter’s - as much as he wanted to lean into the touch, or kiss those lips, or even look at them, he resisted, “Wrong organ. I distinctly remember saying ‘use that brain’, not ‘use that dick’.”

He wet his lips instinctively, “Or are they located in the same place?”

Peter snorted softly and looked down to Stiles’s lips, “That’s funny,” He said numbly, wetting his lips as well, “Because men are notorious for thinking with their dicks, good one. Your lips look soft... Have you kissed anyone before?” He rested his hand on Stiles’s knee, almost the entirety of his palm cupping the younger man’s leg. Everything about the kid was petite, now.

“If I won’t tell you my sexual orientation, why do you think I’d tell you that?” Stiles asked, barely breathing now and Peter touching his leg was doing all kinds of uncontrollable things to him on the inside. He started thinking of anything to keep himself calm - the smell of raw meat, the color of rocks, blue’s clues songs, the horrible underwear designs of the 1950's.

“Fair enough,” The alpha murmured, sliding his hand up a little further on Stiles’s leg as he leaned in closer, lips touching the younger man’s cheek as he spoke, “If I told you I wanted to kiss you... Would you let me?”

He pulled back just a little, nose touching Stiles’s cheekbone, “Or what if I told you I could get you off and solve your problem for you, show you how good it could feel?”

“I’d probably remind you that not two minutes ago I challenged you with trying to find out what sexual orientation I am,” Stiles breathed, side-eying Peter with the best poker face he could muster, even though everything inside of him was wanting the alpha to just take him and do whatever he wanted to do with Stiles’s body. Fuck yes, he’d let him, no goddamn questions.

“You’re all talk these days, you always want people to give you things. Derek and Scott have domesticated you, and now the best you can do is act interested just to find out what my orientation is. It must really suck, to not have something given to you so easily, to actually have someone resist your charms so much that you question whether or not you actually have them.”

Peter could hear the nervous stutter to Stiles’s heartbeat and although he was trying not to let Peter know it affected him, it was easy to see that it was. And even then, if he couldn’t have heard his heartbeat, the scent would’ve given him away.

“I don’t want you to give me anything,” The alpha moved his hand up a little further, tilting his head back to look Stiles in the eyes, “I want to give you something.”

He looked down at his hand on the younger man’s thigh and wiggled his fingers, “Those, to be exact. I saw you looking at them, you know I could get you off. All you have to do is stop being so coy and ask me to.”

Stiles turned so that their lips brushed and his insides nearly melted, his eyes wondered up and down the alpha’s face for a moment as he tried to consider what Peter was saying.

He was sure, more than anything, that the guy was all show. There was no way what **he** really wanted was standing there offering itself up to him so easily, no way in Hell, “The fact that you’re asking permission at all makes me suspect you, I can’t help it, I’m a born skeptic. I’m not giving this to you, I told you I wasn’t. You’re going to have to rely on yourself to figure this out, I’m not giving you ammunition.”

Resisting the older man was actually making him feel kind of uncomfortable, because he just wanted to fucking attack Peter, but he was worried that giving in would make him back off, or lose interest if he got the answer so easily.

“I’m asking permission because I’m a gentleman, Stiles,” Peter said, wetting his lips again after his brushed the younger man’s, “What do you want me to do, just take it and see how you react?”

He was aware that certain lines were beginning to blur. Initially, he’d began with the sole intention of figuring out what Stiles’s orientation was, but the fact that the kid wasn’t making it easy on him only made him want to know more and made him want _more_. He was a guy, and not that all men are horn dogs, but he’d have to be blind to not to want to help Stiles out with his predicament.

The alpha moved quickly and pulled Stiles by his leg, laying him down flat on his couch before moving in between his thin thighs, holding him down against the cushions with his hips, “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, smirking at Stiles, “Me taking control and being a greedy bastard?”

He leaned down and brushed their noses together, “What about now, want me to get you off yet?”

“If I answer you, you’ll know either way, won’t you?” Stiles breathed as he stared up at Peter, eyes sharp, but wide with innocence as he spoke, “If I say ‘yes’, you get your answer, and you can just back off and be done with it, and assume you know what I’m interested in."

"If I say ‘no’, you’ll still back off, because then you’ll know that way too. But you won’t really know, will you? What if it’s just you? What if I say ‘yes’, but it’s not a lie because I’m attracted to you, or if I say ‘no’, but it’s only because you’re a creeper, and I’m not actually interested in you. How would you know? You wouldn’t."

"This is all purely situational, and you’re **still** asking me, after I’ve already told you, that I’m not going to tell you ‘yes’ or ‘no’. I’m sorry, big guy, but you’re going to have to figure this out on your own, I’m not giving you any more easy answers.”

Peter sighed and nodded as he ran his hand from Stiles’s hip down his thigh, leaning down a little further to press their lips together chastely before pulling back, “Mm, they are soft,” He resigned, sitting back up and scooting back to his seat.

“But okay, if you won’t tell me and you refuse to give into my influence, then I’m afraid I don’t really know how else I could possibly go about finding out. You liked Lydia, so it’s pretty safe to assume you like women... Or maybe it was just her, who knows.” He shrugged and grabbed the remote to turn the television back on.

Stiles sat up slowly and watched Peter, he didn’t know if he would’ve gotten more, or less, from Peter, if he’d given in, and that was the most infuriating part about it.

Still, he’d managed to get a kiss, which was far more than he’d ever gotten from Lydia, and definitely more than what he’d expected from Peter, “I give you **one** thing to figure out all on your lonesome, and you give up after a failed attempt at seduction,” He nodded and smiled to himself, “Never thought I’d be able to manipulate _you_.”

“I wouldn’t say I failed completely,” Peter smiled, and looked at Stiles, “Pretend all you want, but I can smell you, even if you try to staunch it down or ignore it. But you see, the question now, isn’t so much if you’re interested in men or women, or both. It’s whether or not you’re interested in me, or men in general. After I figure that out, I can go on from there.”

“You keep approaching it that way, and you’re never gonna know,” Stiles said as he straightened his shirt and turned his body from Peter, “I’m not gonna be easy to place if you think you just narrowed **anything** down."

"Attracted to you or not, I can get physically aroused by hot water, or starting up my jeep, even. Coming onto me just tells you that I can become sexually stimulated by attempts at intimidation and seduction. That’s really it."

"But what it tells **me** is that you’re desperate enough to know. Which is weird, because there aren’t that many people that care... Or any, really. Is it the fact that you’ve realized that you don’t know anything about me that has actually made you curious enough to come onto a person that you’re not interested in?”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s the fact that you have no regards for my personal space and come into my home bitching about not being able to get off,” Peter raised his brows, “Or maybe it’s because you’re being difficult and can’t give me a direct answer to a simple question. Regardless, I will find out.”

“You sound bitter,” Stiles grinned even wider and shrugged, “I came to you for a **few** reasons."

"I don’t just go complaining about this to anyone. I didn’t tell Scott because he’s already nervous around me as it is, I didn’t tell Lydia because... She’s Lydia, and it actually feels more like a guy thing, all things considered. I didn’t tell Derek because he’s fucking Derek, and who **is** comfortable talking about sex with Derek? I didn’t tell Isaac, Erica, or Vernon, because they’d all probably jump me."

"Believe it or not, I told you because I trust you to actually respect my boundaries, and respond with something both sarcastic and enlightening. Because that’s kinda been your norm, lately.”

“I’d like to think what I said was somewhat enlightening,” Peter narrowed his brows at Stiles, “You’re just too impatient, you want instant gratification. That aside, I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just answer my question. Are you ashamed of your orientation?” He asked and then rolled his eyes, “Oh, wait, you probably won’t answer that either.”

Stiles laughed and shook his head, “I’m not ashamed of it in the slightest, I’m actually **quite** comfortable with it. Comfortable enough that changing genders hasn’t really had any effect on it. Whether the question was simple or not, I still wouldn’t have answered."

"I give everyone everything all of the time. I’m an open book, a well of knowledge, and you guys push me around like I’m some damn doll. So, for once, I’d like to know something someone else **doesn’t** know about me, and see them try to work at it, for a change.”

“By ‘you guys’, you mean my nephew,” Peter retorted, staring at Stiles, “Is it really fair to put me in that category when the only thing I’ve ever asked you to do was knock for a change? That’s it, just a simple knock to announce your annoying presence, but no, you can’t even do that. I really do need to start locking my door.”

He relaxed against the couch and crossed his arms over his chest before looking back at the television, “I suppose it doesn’t matter that much, not if you want me to work for it. I have better things to do with my time than trying to find out your orientation.” Though, he still wanted to know, and wouldn’t stop until he found out.

“Normal people **do** lock their doors, you’re asking for me to walk in, that’s your problem,” Stiles said as he stood up and stretched, popping his bones as his shirt and jacket lifted to expose more of his skin. He finished and turned to look down at Peter, “And I’m guessing you don’t remember... Kidnapping me, or slamming my head against the back of a trunk and threatening me to help you find Derek, do you? Because I do, I remember it really well. I also remember you bending all my keys. ‘You guys’ includes you too.”

“Oh come **on** ,” Peter groaned, eyes flitting from Stiles’s stomach up to his eyes, “I do one bad thing and none of you ever let me live it down. Move on already, it’s been years. Derek bosses you around all the time and you never bitch to him.”

He waved his hand at the younger man as if to dismiss him and looked away, “Forgive and forget, that’s what I say.”

Stiles leaned over and stared Peter in the eyes, “You and every other person that’s done something wrong, and while I understand a lot of the things you did, you still did them, some of them to very **innocent** people.”

He pulled back up and took his keys from his back pocket, “You haven’t even apologized, not once. So, I’ve got this thing with Lydia to go to, I think, I’m pretty sure she’ll ask soon. If I don’t see you before the next pack meet, it’s been nice manipulating you. Good luck on avidly trying to find out my orientation while pretending you’re not.”

Peter very seldom felt guilty over anything, but anytime anyone brought up the things he did, he couldn’t help but regret it a little. He glared at the younger man and grabbed one of the throw pillows from the couch and threw it at Stiles, “Just go already. God, you’re like a leech.”

Stiles snatched the pillow and threw it back, “More like a tick, really,” He said in his... Defense? He left the apartment then, somewhat pleased with himself about how well things had actually went. And once he was out the door, he paused long enough to touch his lips and grin wide before climbing into the jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn everyone, as an aside, that it’s possible fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point. Most of ours seem to go that way. But I’m putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it. PLEASE, don’t go on reading thinking that it’ll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks. That said, there is a LOT more already written of this fic/rp, so no need to worry fer now.  
> -WincestSounds


	4. Chapter 4

Girl’s night out had consisted of Stiles, Lydia, Allison and Erica originally. Erica, though, got tied up in doing something for Derek that was taking longer than expected, and Allison called late to tell them that her dad was taking her out for the weekend, and she had to pack in the morning, so she was also a no-show.

With it dwindled down to Stiles and Lydia, it quickly became just... Stiles. Stiles, who didn’t mind, even though he was watching a previous crush hook up with a guy that would **never** resemble him, _especially now_. He patted her on the back in reassurance when the hulking guy offered to take her out. He insisted she go and have fun, that he’d be fine, that he’d call Scott, even though he had no intentions of following through with it.

He still wasn’t drunk, and he came there for that purpose. So, with that in mind, he knocked back another shot and leaned over the counter to ask for a few more.

* * *

Peter wasn’t stalking Stiles, or at least that’s what he’d told himself in order to justify following the younger man. The club that the environment provided was perfect to test Stiles, to see if he could get any closer to figuring out the boy’s orientation (not that it was important to him, because it wasn’t, damn it). He had to keep reminding himself that Stiles was a guy, had been and still was internally. But on the outside, he was beautiful and most definitely didn’t _look_ like a man.

After Lydia left with her boy toy, he’d stopped the first Joe he ran into, slapped fifty bucks against his chest, “You see that hot little number over there leaning against the bar, red top?”

The guy nodded and Peter had to resist the urge to ring his neck when he saw the guy’s eyes skimming down over Stiles’s body.

“Good, now go hit on her. She likes when men are forward - either come on strong or don’t try at all.”

The guy grabbed the money and shoved it in his pocket before stumbling over to the bar, grinning stupidly as he pressed up against Stiles’s side, reaching out and grabbing a handful of her ass before leaning in to whisper into her ear, “Been watching you and I can’t take my eyes off of those lips of yours, you look like you were born to suck dick.”

He hiccuped, “Wanna get out of here and show daddy how good at it you are?”

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin as his personal bubble was invaded, and he blinked in surprise, turning to look at the man and trying not to freak out the moment their eyes met.

He smiled instead and knocked back another shot, turning bodily and raising a brow, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He asked curiously, eying the man and stepping back a bit, “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Stiles motioned to himself, wetting his lips, “I haven’t really had the chance to test it out, but I bet you could help me out with that,” He lifted his skirt a bit as he spoke - a bit higher, a bit more, until the man could see the black lace of his panties, “Couldn’t you?”

The guy nodded fervently and gaped at the show of skin, mouth practically watering, “Yeah, I could, baby. I could help you with anything you need. God, I bet your pussy tastes amazing.”

Peter watched in horror as he listened to how tactless the guy was, running a hand over his face and growling under his breath. He’d expected the guy to hit on Stiles, and he had, but he hadn’t really anticipated feeling so possessive and protective. Kind of like he wanted to go over there and rip the guy’s throat out for even looking at Stiles.

He raised a curious brow then, as he watched Stiles and listened to what he was saying to the douchebag, kind of confused as the younger man started hiking up his skirt.

“It does,” Stiles nodded and grinned wider, “It really does, actually... It tastes fucking fantastic,” He threw out his right leg so fast, so sudden, that it swung his body to face sideways and his foot planted itself into the large man’s balls.

Stiles watched him fall backwards and he dropped his leg, pushing his skirt down into place once more, “And if you even think of touching my ass again, I’ll break that fucking dick of yours and shove it up your ass.”

He turned to the bartender, drinking down his other shot and lifting his head in recognition, “Two more, please.”

Peter almost choked on his tongue as he watched it happen, eyes wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a surprised gasp. Never in a million years would he have expected Stiles to defend himself like that. And it was odd, but he was kind of proud of him as he watched the guy scramble away, screaming and calling Stiles a 'crazy bitch'.

He grabbed his wallet from the table and moved before he could stop himself, sitting down on the stool just next to the younger man as he smiled at him, “Well that was certainly something, I’m impressed.”

He looked at the bartender, “Get the lady three more of whatever she’s drinking.”

Stiles turned to Peter and raised his brows suggestively, “My dad had me take these defense classes when I was younger, people don’t touch me if I don’t wanna be touched, or they regret it. Jackson learned that the hard way, fucker never tempted me again, now did he?”

He turned to the shots and knocked back one after another before looking at Peter again, “What’re you doing here? This is girl’s night-” He glanced around himself and then corrected the wording, “ **Girl** night out.”

Peter couldn’t help but smirk, because he’d came on pretty strong to Stiles before and the younger man hadn’t kneed him in the balls, “It’s Beacon Hills, small town, and I like to party just as much as the next person... Even though I can’t get drunk.” He rested his elbow on the bar top and watched Stiles down the shots, impressed with how he was handling his liquor.

“Yeah, me and Scott learned that one the hard way,” Stiles said as he moved a bit closer to the alpha, “I was so drunk and he just... Was pissed. And not in the drunk way, he was the **worst** company for a happy drunk, total mood killer. Could never figure out, though, do you want to? Or-”

He downed another shot and licked his teeth, “Or do you like not getting drunk?”

“I’d love to get drunk... If I could,” Peter chuckled, unable to understand how Scott could ever be in a sour mood around Stiles while he was slightly tipsy.

He rested his hand on Stiles’s forearm, “Maybe you should slow down just a little? You’re downing them like they’re water and it’s going to hit you all at once. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you end up vomiting.”

“Believe it or not, this isn’t a first,” Stiles said, making a circling motion to the empty shot glasses, “I can hold pretty well. I’m fine, grandpa.”

He leaned closer, looking up at Peter and grinning, “Just don’t pay anymore guys to flirt with me, or I’ll kick you in the balls, mean it,” He turned and held out one finger to the bartender.

“Gotcha,” Peter said, still staring at Stiles and smiling, “But I feel like I should probably tell you that I didn’t tell him to say those things, they were all him. Completely tactless, I could’ve done better myself and I would’ve, but...” He sighed and shrugged, “My last attempt didn’t exactly go over so well.”

“F’you did what he did,” Stiles looked at Peter and pointed between them, “Mmm,” He said, swallowing and nodding, “I actually... Really don’t mind forwardness like that. Forward is fine, it’s less confusing. F’it was you, whole different story. And your last attempt was just made to find out if I was gay or not, it’s not like you were actually interested in me.”

He waved at the bartender and knocked back the shot before sliding it across and turning on his stool, “That guy, that guy actually wanted to fuck me. I kicked him because I didn’t want to.”

“So are you saying you’d fuck me? Because I’m getting some mixed signals here,” Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles, smile faint but still there, “Me being a 'whole different story' can be taken more than one way. Would your reaction to my earlier advances have differed any if I **had** been interested in you?” Stiles was insistent that he was fine with the liquor, but the younger man was already starting to slur his words a bit.

“A **lot** different, if you were interested,” Stiles threw his hands up and then sat back on his elbow, “But it doesn’t really matter either way, because you’re not.”

He crossed his legs and looked down at them for a moment, smoothing his hand over the lap of his skirt and sighing, “It’s so weird not having a dick all the time,” Stiles smiled then and looked at the bartender, the beefy man who was staring at him with a raised brow, “You’ve heard weirder comments, let’s face it.”

Peter didn’t correct Stiles, mainly because he couldn’t. He hadn’t **really** been interested in the boy, not like he was currently.

His eyes widened when Stiles mentioned his dick and he grabbed him by the elbow, “Alright, come on. Let’s go get a booth before you go and tell the bartender all about the supernatural,” He said, leaning in close enough just for Stiles to hear him.

He grabbed a couple more shots with one hand and led the younger man to the booth in the back corner of the club, hand on the small of his back as he ushered him in first before taking his seat.

Stiles sat down and watched Peter curiously, “So why’re you **really** here? You didn’t actually just come here to pay a guy to flirt with me, did you? Are you **that** bored at your apartment? I knew you wanted to know, I knew you wanted to know badly, I just don’t get... Why it matters so much to you.”

“I’m the kind of guy who likes to know the answer if I ask a question. It festers and drives me insane if I don’t know,” Peter sat the shots down in front of Stiles and scooted closer, looking at him, “And you refused to answer me. I **also** happen to be the kind of guy who goes to stupid lengths to get the answers he wants. All of this could’ve been prevented if you had just told me.”

“Are you kidding?” Stiles sat back and downed one of the shots, “I got to kick a guy in the nuts, okay? Like I’d wanna prevent that. It felt fucking good. I haven’t kicked someone that hard since I was like... Seven. It was hilarious, too, he was so excited. Mm... I don’t think a guy’s ever talked to me like that before. It was actually nice, too bad he was a dick.”

Stiles chuckled as he nodded, “You paid a guy to get kicked in the balls by me, that’s awesome.”

Peter nodded and chuckled as well, “That it was.”

He was silent for a moment, wishing that he could’ve gotten drunk as well, “If he wouldn’t have been a dick...” He started suddenly, “Would you have left here with him? Even after he pulled those god awful lines on you?” He asked, smile gone and he rested his elbow on the table. He couldn’t help thinking how much better he could’ve done, how much smoother it would’ve been.

“Mm, I dunno, maybe,” Stiles shrugged and put his hands up in front of him as if to say ‘like I fucking know’, “You’re a fan of casual sex, right? He wasn’t even talking about that, what’s a blow job, it’s like nothing..."

"Nothing I’ve experienced,” He knocked back the second shot, “But still nothing, it’s not like anyone else is interested.”

“I’m a fan of casual sex, sure,” Peter nodded, brows furrowed, “Casual blow jobs or whatever floats your boat, but that guy... He wouldn’t have appreciated you. Even with casual sex, you need a decent partner, Stiles... Not some loser who grabs your ass and whispers filth in your ear. And the filth he whispered wasn’t even good, I’m positive I cringed a little.”

“Dude, you’re me, you don’t get offers like... **Ever** ,” Stiles motioned to himself, rolling his eyes, “I don’t really care if I’m... Objectified. At least he was interested, that’s more than most. I don’t really care about tact or anything, I’m pretty... Simple."

"I’m a guy, so it doesn’t really get more complicated than that. I’ve been attracted to like two people my **whole** life, and neither of them are interested, why **not** go with him? He grabbed my ass, that’s what did it.”

“That’s it?” Peter asked incredulously, “That’s why you’d go with him? Because he grabbed your ass and the people you like aren’t showing interest in you? You can do better, Stiles, maybe show a little interest in the people you **do** like. I’ve heard stories of what you’d consider flirting attempts with Lydia back in the day. If you want people to know you like them, you need to lay it on a little bit thicker.”

“Some guys like a girl to just walk up and grab their ass, wait...” He narrowed his brows at what he said and then shrugged, “No, that’s fine too, guy or girl, it doesn’t really matter. Interest is nice. It made me feel **desired** , which is... A first. Even if he didn’t give a fuck about me, that’s how it made me feel.”

“So are you saying my attempt didn’t make you feel desired? Since you’re going with the logic that he didn’t give a fuck about you...” Peter frowned at Stiles and glanced at the bar, “Do you want more to drink?”

Stiles nodded and stretched his arms out on the table, “Yes,” He said as he looked at Peter and grinned as the alpha moved from the booth and stalked over to the bar.

Peter ordered a tray of shots and carried them back, setting them down in front of the younger man before taking his seat, again, “Please don’t get alcohol poisoning.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles said, downing two and turning to Peter, “But uh, no, yours didn’t make me feel desired, yours made me feel like... You wanted answers. That’s what it felt like. Peter wanted a thing, and Peter thought the only way to get the thing was by coming onto me. It was fake - **faked** \- please.”

Stiles closed his eyes for a second, “That guy, that guy actually wanted to _fuck **me**_ , like he wanted sex... From **me**.”

Peter was somewhat pleased that he’d gotten the answer to his question, but he still felt slightly unsettled. Disgruntled almost, that his attempt at seducing Stiles didn’t make the younger man feel anything at all, even though it was clearly better executed.

Stiles wanted someone to be interested in him, not just faking. And although he was slowly realizing he could easily do that, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to take advantage of the situation with the younger man being drunk.

“I had him hit on you, how was his attempt any less fake than mine?” He asked, leaning in closer as he looked into the younger man’s blood shot eyes, gaze dragging down to his heated cheeks, then back up, “I paid him fifty dollars to hit on you.”

Stiles shrugged and downed another shot, “Doesn’t matter, he did it. You had ulterior motives, both times. But you know, nothing makes a guy feel special like knowing that the only times he gets flirted with are once... _Once_... **One** , to get answers out of me; and two, he was paid. Guess it makes sense. Maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s not the body that’s broken, but it like actually is **me**.”

He knocked back a few more shots and let out a heavy breath, “At least **I** find me attractive.”

“You **are** attractive,” Peter confirmed, “You’re attractive now and you were attractive before, that’s not a question. You’re not broken, Stiles.” He pushed the tray of shots away slightly, “You are, however, extremely intoxicated and thinking way too far into things.”

He brushed Stiles’s arm with the backs of his fingers, “I’m sorry I made you feel like shit. I’m an ass, I know, but it was never my intention to make you feel like that.”

Stiles pulled his arm away from Peter, “I’m not **that** shrunk,” He reached for another shot, “And it’s like... I get fifty times hotter, and I’m still **just** as single as I was beforehand, only now I have tits, and I can’t get off, it’s awesome. You should’ve seen it-”

He grinned and laid on the table, “It was hilarious, with the pillows and... just take my word for it, it was _hilarious_ ,” He singsonged the last part, pushing his bottom half up out of the booth as he rocked back and forth on the surface of the table, “ _Hilarious_.”

“You’re not 'that drunk', but you can’t even say **drunk** correctly and you’re two point two from table dancing,” Peter furrowed his brows and reached to touch the small of Stiles’s back even though the younger man recoiled from his previous touch, “Come on, I think I should probably take you home.”

It was like the younger man wasn’t really hearing **anything** he was saying, he’d practically told Stiles he found him attractive **and** he’d even apologized, and it had all been for naught, apparently.

“That’s nice,” Stiles grinned wider at the feeling of the older man’s warm hand on his body and he pulled himself back from the table, staring Peter in the eyes for a moment as he leaned against the alpha’s neck and breathed him in, “Oh my god, you smell so good,” He smeared his hand down Peter’s shirt, “I bet you have a hairy chest.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he reached up to cover Stiles’s hand with his own, mindlessly linking their fingers and pulling the younger man’s hand from his chest, “Thank you... And you’d be correct,” He said, kind of taken aback and slightly aroused by the sudden onslaught of drunken Stiles coming at him.

At least he never claimed to be a good person, “ I really should get you home, Stiles. Lydia is off only God knows where and you’re too drunk to call anyone for help.”

He leaned in closer so that he didn't have to raise his voice that much over the music, free hand reaching up to brush Stiles's chin with his thumb, "Let me take you home?"

“Goddamn, why’re you so fuckin’ sexy?” Stiles asked numbly, blinking slowly before leaning in, bunching up the front of Peter’s shirt and covering the older man’s mouth with his own. He didn’t really care much for what the alpha was saying, he just wanted to fuck, for like... **Hours**.

“Mm,” The alpha mumbled incoherently, eyes wide and even though he knew he shouldn’t have, he kissed Stiles back. The hand touching his chin moved around so that he could cup the younger man’s jaw, skin soft like silk underneath the pads of his fingers.

He ignored the taste of alcohol and focused more on the hints of things that were distinctly _Stiles_ , lips insistent against the younger man’s and after a moment he pulled back.

Any other day his morals were nowhere to be found, but as it were, they were present now, “You’re **drunk**. If you remember this when you’re sober, then maybe we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Stiles pft’d in Peter’s face and rolled his eyes, “Fuck sober, sober sucks,” He said, chuckling, “I can’t do **anything** when I’m sober. I can’t say what I wanna say, I can’t tell you what I want you to do."

"I want you to get me off, and fuck me, and grab my ass, and whisper **your** filth in my ear, sober or not,” His hand dropped from Peter’s shirt and settled right on his dick, pressing against the front of his pants, “I want you to be greedy.”

Peter felt his dick harden almost at once and he grabbed Stiles by the wrist to remove his hand, “Okay,” He said, nodding and staring into Stiles’s eyes, “I’ll gladly do all of that, but only on one condition.”

The alpha put his hand on the younger man’s bare thigh and slid it up under his skirt, stopping just before reaching his panties as he leaned to whisper in his ear, “Ask me again when you’re sober."

"I’m a bad guy, yeah, but I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re like this. Come back to me with a clear head and I’ll get you off, no questions asked,” He squeezed Stiles’s thigh slightly, trying to show him he meant it. Groping probably wasn’t much better, but at least he’d be able to sleep at night knowing he didn’t go _further_.

“I’d never ask you,” Stiles admitted, shifting his thigh to encourage Peter’s hand up higher under his skirt and he stared the alpha in the eyes, “I talk a big game, but I’d never ask you sober.”

He glanced down at Peter’s crotch and turned into him, “You obviously just wanna touch me, stop fighting your urges an’ go with ‘em. I want you to. F’I was sober, I’d want you to, more than anything. Be forceful, don’t ask, I’m **telling** you that’s what I want.”

He spread his legs a little wider, “More Darth Peter, less Mr. Rogers Peter, yeah? You know you wanna test my body as much as I do.”

Peter gritted his teeth and felt his resolve chipping away like ice, looking down at Stiles’s thighs and feeling his mouth water at how eager the younger man was, the way he was putting himself on display by spreading his legs. He knew that he needed to get Stiles home, but he could always take him home **after** getting him off, right? He wasn’t really sure if he cared.

The alpha took the invitation and slid his hand up completely, palm covering the lace of Stiles’s panties and he felt his cock get impossibly harder when he felt the heat radiating off of him.

He brushed his fingers over the dampness of the fabric, “Jesus Christ, you’re soaking wet.”

He looked up to meet Stiles's gaze, eyes lidded and he pulled his hand away, grabbing the younger man’s wrist to pull him from the booth, “Come on, not in here.”

“Told you, I want it,” Stiles sighed in relief as Peter touched him and he almost complained when the alpha removed his hand just as quickly, but nodded at what sounded like a sort of promise for more, and not just more... But more, **soon**.

He stood as well and followed after Peter, waving as they passed the bar and struggling a little to keep his footing as he stared at the older man’s back and grinned to himself in triumph.

Peter was thankful that the club was so dimly lit, because explaining the massive erection threatening to bust the zipper on his pants to a hundred plus people wouldn’t be easy. Or maybe it would have been, it was a club, after all.

The alpha opened the front doors and breathed the evening air in deep, looking around outside before tugging Stiles along. He stopped just next to his car and looked around once more to make sure no one was nearby before pinning Stiles to the cool metal.

He grabbed him by the hips and leaned down to kiss along the younger man’s bare shoulder, something he’d been wanting to do since he set eyes on Stiles in the ridiculously revealing top.

“I shouldn’t be doing this,” He murmured heatedly, nipping his way up the younger man’s neck, “You won’t even remember it.”

“Who cares?” Stiles asked rhetorically, baring his neck and grabbing at the waist of Peter’s shirt to pull him closer.

He ran one hand up into the alpha’s hair, curling his fingers into the mane as he looked down between them. His vision was a bit blurry around the edges and he probably wouldn’t have been able to stand upright if Peter wasn’t pressed against him so firmly. Every kiss from the alpha made his body throb and his heart race.

Stiles was normally pretty shameless, but being drunk had given him enough edge to actually **ask** for this, whether he remembered it or not, he really didn’t care, just as long as _something_ was happening between them.

Peter cared, which was probably the most shocking revelation of the night, but if Stiles didn’t... Then he could push it aside for now.

He fisted the younger man’s jaw in his hand and turned his head more to the side as he sucked flushes into the sweet skin, moaning against it quietly and rocking his hips against Stiles. He pulled back suddenly and forced Stiles around, stepping back in close to grind himself against the younger man’s ass.

The alpha grabbed the bottom of his skirt and worked it up slowly, palms brushing and grabbing at his thighs as he pressed his nose to Stiles’s ear, “I’m glad you didn’t leave with the other guy,” He admitted, nipping at the younger man’s ear lobe, “I doubt he would’ve been able to actually get you off.”

Stiles dropped his head back, sighing and nodding slightly as he shifted his hips, reaching down to run his hands under his shirt. He rolled his waist, ass making circular movements over the front of Peter’s pants and Stiles bit his bottom lip as he felt Peter’s warm palms on his skin.

“Me too,” He said, turning to look into the alpha’s eyes, “I’ve wanted your hands on me for a **while** now,” Stiles smiled and grabbed the back of Peter’s neck, pulling him in and smearing their lips together, biting his lip hard as he whimpered into the kiss.

Peter winced slightly at the sharp bite, but then growled and kissed back fiercely as his cock throbbed against the constraints of his pants, “Fuck.”

He pulled Stiles’s skirt up completely and slid his left hand up to cover the younger man’s heat, applying pressure and pulling his smaller body back against his own as he teased Stiles through the fabric.

Mostly, he wished that Stiles would’ve just told him before, because they could’ve already gotten this show on the road, and over with, but he also remembered Stiles saying he wouldn’t have told him sober - so it was neither here nor there.

The alpha slid his palm up over the lace until he was touching the younger man’s tummy, dipping his fingers under the fabric before pushing back down in, middle finger gliding into his wetness before circling his clit with the pad of his finger.

“Oh god,” Stiles sighed into Peter’s mouth as he squirmed and his body bent, almost as if to get away from Peter’s hand but he reached down to hold the alpha’s wrist in place and urge him on.

His entire body was torn, wanting to pull away because it felt so good, but not wanting to for the **same** reason, “I’m never gonna get use to this body,” He breathed as his legs shook.

“Don’t stop,” He turned to Peter and looked him in the eyes, “Even if I try to pull away, please don’t stop, I... I can’t help it.”

Peter nodded and kissed Stiles again, licking his way into the younger man’s mouth as he circled his clit lazily, pushing down into his juices and dragging the wetness back up.

He used his other hand to undo his belt, snapping the button and tugging the zipper down before pulling his cock out. Groaning, the alpha grinded against the lace of Stiles’s panties. He stopped and pulled his hand away, long enough to force the fabric down to the younger man’s knees.

Mouth watering at the sight before him, he moved back in and shivered as their skin touched, cock pressed firmly between his ass cheeks, arm already back around Stiles’s waist so that he could touch him again.

Stiles looked down, watching Peter’s hand work his clit far more sure and trained than Stiles could’ve pulled off on his own. He barely heard the slide of the older man’s zipper and only just realized that the hand was gone from his front and he suspected what was happening when he felt the warm flesh against him, but didn’t fight whatever it was Peter had in mind.

“Fuck, that’s your dick,” He observed, upper half swaying for a moment before dropping back against the alpha’s firm body again as the fingers returned, teasing and causing him to gasp, “Peter, _fuck_.”

Peter moaned and leaned down to kiss Stiles’s shoulder again, other hand reaching up around the younger man, fingers sliding down under the fabric of his top and brushing over the hardened little nipples, “You’re so fucking soft.”

He furrowed his brows in concentration, teasing Stiles a little faster as he pulled his hips back a little, grabbing the base of his cock and guiding the head of it, pressing it between the younger man’s folds and gasping at the warmth, “And so wet,” He breathed, working Stiles’s clit with one hand and teasing his entrance with the head of his dick.

He wasn’t going to actually fuck Stiles, but he wanted a little more, just to feel how tight and wet he really was. The alpha squeezed the base of his cock and pressed in just a little, only the plush cap buried within the heat and it took everything he had not to rock forward.

“Oh,” Stiles shuddered as he felt Peter press into him slightly and he arched his back, trying to urge the werewolf inward, “Oh fuck, that’s nice.”

He felt like the older man was all over his fucking body and it was like his skin was crawling with it, wanting more of him. He felt this sharp, tinging feeling start near his clit and it startled him for a moment because he _knew_ that feeling.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles said again, wetting his lips as it slowly started building and he grinned, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s getting closer,” He writhed and shifted against Peter, body trying to slide against the length throbbing between his legs while struggling to keep the alpha’s hand in position to do whatever the fuck it was doing **right**.

He looked down, upper half almost dropping completely as he leaned against the car and watched Peter’s thick, rougher fingers driving him insane.

“Good,” Peter murmured just next to Stiles’s ear, voice tight as he held the younger man’s hip with his free hand, in order to keep him from writhing back too much, “That’s really good, can’t wait to feel you clench down around me.”

He pulled his hips back a little, withdrawing the head of his cock before gently pressing it back in. Smirking as he watched Stiles’s reflection in the glass of his car windows, the alpha added a little more pressure to his clit, fingers working frantically against the silken skin, “Come on, Stiles, let go. Let go and come for me.”

Stiles let out a shaky breath of air through his nose as his body locked up, as he felt Peter’s dick press in slightly again and he wanted _all_ of it so badly. He stared at the alpha’s hand still, eyes wide as his mouth popped open and he gasped as his legs closed instinctively, his head arching back and his dull nails grabbing at Peter’s neck and wrists.

“Oh my **God** ,” He sobbed out as he turned his face into the werewolf’s neck and felt his insides clenching over and over again, each time pulling a choked gasp from him.

It happened nearly eight times, he thought, nearly eight fucking times it felt like he was going to die, like a rolling weight pressing through him and he was sure he said Peter’s name a **few** times, but he was so numb that he barely even realized he was crying until he tried to breathe through his nose.

“There you go,” Peter murmured, fighting the urge to come when he felt Stiles’s walls pulsing around him, “So good. Fuck, _Stiles_.”

He moved his hand away from his clit and wrapped his arm around the younger man’s waist, holding him through the orgasm. He’d given his fair share of orgasms, but he’d never really seen someone react so beautifully to it. And he wasn’t sure if it was just because Stiles hadn’t been able to get off and Peter gave him that release, or if it was because he always reacted that way, but he wanted to be able to find out.

After the younger man’s walls stopped clenching, he shifted his hips back to pull himself from Stiles’s heat, keeping his arm around him the best he could as he reached down to grab his panties and pull them back up.

He turned Stiles around and used his clean hand to wipe his tears away before tucking himself back into his jeans, leaning in to kiss the younger man softly, “Now, I need to take you home.”

Stiles leaned into the kiss, smiling again and closing his eyes as he fixed his skirt and felt his legs wobbling in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol consumption.

He ran his hands over Peter’s shirt, feeling the firm build and humming in approval, “Thank you,” He said as he pulled back and stared into the alpha’s eyes, “I think that’s the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

Stiles wet his lips and turned to the car, stretching his body and chuckling, “And **you** did it,” He said in a singsong tone, moving back to Peter and grabbing his waist, pulling him close as Stiles breathed him in, “I owe you one. Next time you see me...”

He pushed the alpha away and walked around the front of the car, leaning against the hood and staring at the sky, “Just shove your dick in my mouth, I’ll get the point, or the head, rather.”

Peter fastened his pants and chuckled as he moved to Stiles, pulling him up away from the car as he shook his head, “There’s not going to be a next time, Stiles, you’re not even going to remember this.”

He ushered Stiles to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for him, helping him inside before moving around to the driver’s side and climbing in, “Can you put your seatbelt on for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As is typical with any fanfic put together by both me and Acklesboner/Sparklinski,  
> I want to warn everyone that it’s possible, and very highly likely, fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point (most of ours go that way). But I’m putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it.  
> PLEASE, don’t go on reading thinking that it’ll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks.  
> That said, there is a LOT more already written of this fic/rp, so no need to worry fer now.  
> If you have questions, you can always ask on [my blog](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/), or on [Sparklinski’s blog](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/), or in the comments here on AO3.
> 
>  
> 
> -WincestSounds


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles sat up in his seat and reached around, grabbing the seatbelt and pulling it over his body, arching as he did so and stretching in his seat before he turned to Peter with raised brows, “But you **want** there to be a next time,” He said, making a slow circling hand motion and smirking, “Trust me - I don’t have a gag reflex, and I have a really wide set jaw, you could just hold me down and skull fuck me, _easy_ \- you **want** there to be a next time.”

“Stiles,” Peter sighed, honestly feeling a little guilty about the whole thing now, “Fooling around with the same person more than once brings complications, whether I want to or not is irrelevant.” He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, glancing over at Stiles somewhat sadly, “Guess it’s a good thing you won’t remember any of this, huh?”

“You have commitment issues,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes and yawning, “Complications only happen when one or the other person **want** them to. You feed into something like that and there’s bound to be issues somewhere, because you **want** there to be that problem."

"You get too comfortable with jumping from one person to the next, and before you know it, the only one important to you is you, and really, what’s the purpose in life when that’s...” He took a breath, rolled his head around and looked at Peter, “Mm, yeah.”

His eyes closed for a moment and he frowned, “Have you ever seen Robin Hood, Men in Tights?”

Peter **did** have commitment issues and he was aware of that.

The whole no strings attached thing had always been more easy for him, because when it came to relationships, he was inadequate and didn’t know how to make them work. At least it was something he acknowledged and he wasn’t denying it.

It wasn’t so much that he only cared about himself, it was more along the lines that he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep a significant other **happy**.

The alpha laughed at the sudden change of subject and glanced over at Stiles, “Afraid not, I’m assuming you have, though?”

“There’s this part at the end, with a chastity belt, only it’s literal and it’s like this electric fence panties,” Stiles laughed and dropped his head back to stare at the roof of the car.

“He had the key to unlock it, but it turns out not to be the right key, so instead he’s like ‘call a locksmith’ - you’d have to see it, it’s hilarious. That’s like... One of the best movies in the world. Good comedy doesn’t come that naturally anymore, we’re stuck in this sick, moral bending comedy that sucks."

"So if fooling around with the same person more than once is a problem, why is it a problem? Do they get like... Clingy?”

Peter clenched his jaw because he’d thought that maybe Stiles would drop the subject altogether, “That’s one reason, people just generally expect more of me than I can provide, and after being with the same person for a while and after you get comfortable with them, feelings become involved and I can’t..."

"I can’t afford to have feelings for anyone, because that means I actually have something to lose. I’m not good at anything relationship related, Stiles, I can’t make them work...” He bit on his bottom lip and took a left, “Casual sex is just what **works** for me.”

“Sounds boring,” Stiles said, blinking slowly once the car got silent, “It’s not really worth it if you have nothing to lose.”

He wet his lips and smacked them together, “'Specially for someone like you, it jus'sounds lame. You barely have a pack, you have no friends, no one close. Most of th'barely pack' either hates you or wants you dead. Mus'be really lonely. You can’t stop others, though.”

Peter listened to Stiles and his brows furrowed even more, hands tightening on the steering column, because the younger man was right. Things he’d done in his past had colored the way everyone saw him, no one was really willing to forgive him and he realized he was only pack because Derek needed his brains.

If it weren’t for his insight on most things, he wouldn’t really have anyone, “Yes, Stiles,” The alpha frowned and parked across the street from the younger man’s house, “It is a little lonely, thanks for pointing that out. Can you wobble across the street and get in yourself or do you need me to help you?”

Stiles shrugged and unbuckled his belt, watching Peter for a moment before he leaned over the seats and kissed him.

He nosed the alpha’s cheek and spoke softly, “I’m not either of ‘em,” He said, eyes meeting Peter’s, “I’ll defend you, I’ll be by your side. I even know that you’re the kinda creep who gets a guy off once he’s drunk, no matter how immoral it’d be for others, and I don’t care - I like it."

"You feel like you're alone,” Stiles scratched his dull nails along Peter’s jaw, “But you’re not. An'the moment you decide that casual sex'is for losers, an' you’d rather have someone t'cuddle with in the morning, just come to me.” He pulled back and opened his door, climbing from the car and walking to his house.

Peter watched Stiles stumble into his home and he reached up to touch his jaw where the younger man had, contemplating if it’d be worth it to put himself out there. He waited in his car until he heard Stiles’s heartbeats and breathing even out before leaving, wanting to make sure the younger man was asleep before going.

* * *

Stiles had prepared his hangover cure far beforehand, he’d learned enough from them in the past to not make the mistake of not having a plan ready when it happened again. The worse part wasn’t even that, though. It was that he couldn’t remember much after he’d drop-kicked the guy flirting with him - the rest of the night was mostly a blur - but he knew he’d been with someone afterwards.

He got these flashes of a hand between his legs, and he remembered the fucking orgasm perfectly, but he didn’t really know who’d caused it. Stiles couldn’t help touching himself as he remembered things. It didn’t bother him much that he didn’t know who it was, considering how _good_ it had been, and he knew he’d been... Receptive to the ministrations, though so drunk he couldn’t remember who was doing it.

His fucking insides were like a damn slip’n’slide, though, so soaking wet that when he pulled his hand back it was like a web of juices between his fingers and he stared in surprise before tasting himself. Jesus fucking Christ, he’d like to know who’d done it, and give them a blow job in return, unless he had, and just couldn’t remember it. But he knew it was a man, he knew that much.

Stiles, personally, didn’t actually **mind** being taken advantage of while he was drunk. He wasn’t sure what that said about his morals, but he didn’t really care if it was wrong to feel that way.

He showered and dressed for the day, grinning to himself over and over again as he remembered the hit of the orgasm the night before. He wasn’t able to replicate it, but he didn’t really mind that either, it’d felt amazing.

Over the next few days things returned to some sense of normal, Stiles poured over the books he’d snagged from the mage’s lair and though he still didn’t find anything that suggested how he could change back, he found a fucking magic starter book and spent a whole solid day trying to float pencils across his room.

Stiles packed a few of the books in his bag and dressed for their pack meeting, locking up the house and climbing into the jeep. He was dressed more like _Stiles_ than one of the doll kind of outfits he normally wore just because he could. It was an older shirt of his own, the one that reminded him of Scott’s tattoo, and a tight pair of brown skinny jeans. Though the shirt was huge on him, he liked it too much to toss the thing out.

He parked at Derek’s loft and, upon sliding the door open, met Peter’s eyes and grinned wide, “So... Have you figured it out yet?”

Peter tried not to let Stiles’s words get to him too much, even though it was fruitless. The kid had been wasted and still managed to get under his skin and press bruises that he’d been sure were gone. Judging by the fact that Stiles didn’t come beat his door down the day after the club incident (and that’s what he was referring to it as, because it was only going to be a one time thing), he assumed that he’d forgotten it all just as he expected him to. Which was for the best, if he was being completely honest with himself.

Looking around the loft at the rest of the pack, he couldn’t help but hear Stiles’s words in his head, ‘You barely have a pack, you have no friends, no one close. Most of th'barely pack' either hates you or wants you dead. Mus'be really lonely’. He crossed his arms and propped his feet up on the stand, gaze flicking up to the younger man when he came in, “Believe it or not, I have,” He said confidently, trying to keep it vague so that no one else would know what he was talking about, “ **Both**.”

Stiles nodded slowly as his grin widened and he stepped further into the room, eyes set on the alpha before he spoke finally, “Nope,” He said, then paused in silence so Peter could hear his heart beats, “Oh, it must suck to be wrong.”

Derek watched the two with a raised brow as Stiles walked over and took a seat beside his uncle. That, in and of itself, was something unusual, but he was thankful that **someone** was warming to the guy. Of course, it **would** be Stiles, “What are you two talking about?”

Stiles shook his head as he stared at Peter and set his backpack down between his legs, “Nothing,” He said, shrugging harmlessly as he pulled the starter book from the bag.

Peter furrowed his brows and frowned because he specifically remembered Stiles saying that it didn’t matter if it was a girl or guy, interest at all was nice. He couldn’t exactly bring that up so he shrugged and ignored it, flicking the book Stiles had pulled into his lap, “You’re still going through those? I’m telling you, you’re wasting your time.”

“Yeah, I’m still going through them,” Stiles defended himself as the rest of the pack returned to talking amongst each other and he leaned closer to Peter, raising his brows and holding his hands under the book for a moment as he mouthed ‘watch’. It took a moment, and he broke a sweat within the blink of an eye, but the book **did** lift from his palms, by nearly three inches and he held it as he stared at the alpha’s face.

Peter’s eyes widened and his expression was a mixture between shock and proudness, “How in the Hell...” He said numbly, prying his eyes from the book to look at Stiles and then to his nephew, “Are you seeing this, do you see what he’s doing?”

Without waiting for Derek to answer he looked back at Stiles, slowly smiling, “That’s amazing.”

“Whoa!” Scott exclaimed, just as amazed with it as Peter, “Dude, that’s fucking awesome.” His gaze shifted from the book up to his friend’s face, “Are you like... Magic, now?”

Stiles laughed and took the book from the air, blushing and grinning, “It’s in here, it’s in the book,” He motioned to the one he was holding, “It’s like some... Beginner’s guide thing to magic.”

Derek stared at Stiles tentatively, walking over and taking the book from his hands and looking at it, “If magic is that easy, why haven’t other people done it?”

He handed it back to Stiles, “If you can just read about it in a book.”

“It’s a bit more tricky than that,” Stiles took the book back and gave Derek a nasty look before turning to Peter and Scott as others looked to them.

“It says in the book. Wizards get their magic from Faeries, and it kinda goes down from there, Harry Potter style. Anyone born from someone granted with magic has a **chance** to be magic, or-” He motioned to his body, “If you’ve been touched by it, any kind of magic, you pretty much become a supernatural being yourself. Which I guess makes sense, because changing your gender the normal way isn’t nearly as effective as this.”

“This could be a good thing,” Peter said, noticing the way Stiles was blushing, “We could have our own mage, that alone would put us at an advantage if we needed it.”

He wanted to reach out and touch the younger man’s back, tell him he was proud of him or something, but he restrained. It’d be crossing too many lines, and considering Stiles didn’t remember their fling, it’d probably just confuse the Hell out of him.

Isaac moved from his seat to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch, gesturing to the book, “Can you like, do spells or anything yet? Or is it just the levitation so far?” He blushed as he met Stiles’s eyes and scratched the back of his neck.

“Well, I was practicing flash lights last night,” Stiles said, looking at Isaac, “Eventually it’ll be like a solid ball of light that can last for **hours** , but so far all I can do is,” He held his hands up in front of himself and put them together, a small orb of light flickering between his hands a few times before going out and he shrugged.

“It’s pretty exhausting, and there’s... Really a **lot** more to it than just that, like that whole ‘imagination is more important than knowledge’ thing. You have to visualize it and will it to happen, it’s... Not easy,” He sat back and smiled at the way Peter was looking at him, “It’s suppose to be like lifting weights, the more you work the muscle, the stronger it becomes, and then you become **that** guy, flicking shit out and changing people’s genders without breaking a sweat.”

Allison smiled as she watched him, “You got a bit side-tracked from looking for a cure, didn’t you?”

“A bit,” Stiles admitted and shrugged, “Took like... Three hours just to roll a pencil around, but after that it started moving along. I kinda like the idea of being more useful than just... Figuring things out.”

Peter finally looked away from Stiles to glance at Isaac, irrationally uneasy with the way he was looking at Stiles. It was the same way he looked at him the day he changed, and while he understood _that_ look perfectly (because you’d have to be blind not to notice how attractive Stiles was), he didn’t necessarily like it.

Isaac noticed Peter glaring at him and he furrowed his brows together, mouth opening like he was about to say something, but he closed it and got up to move away.

The alpha smiled to himself and sat back more on the couch, relaxing and spreading one arm along the back of the cushions, “You’ll be great at it, just make sure you practice. It’ll be nice to have something up our sleeves other than claws, fangs, and good archery.”

Stiles sat back as well and nodded in agreement. He’d actually expected to be chided by showing them what he’d been practicing for the bulk of yesterday, but it was nice to have not only the pack seem approving, but to hear praise from **Peter** , of all people.

“It’s nothing yet,” He said, watching Isaac and then looking at Peter and missing the stunned look from Derek as he held the book close and opened it, “Give it time, though, and practice,” Stiles gave Peter a suggestive look before turning and all but burying his nose in the book.

Peter smirked at the look Stiles gave him and raised his brows, “Are you actually telling me you think you can find the patience for this? I know how you are and how much you like instant gratification, I think we all know how little patience you have.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose as he read through the first page of the book a second time and then looked at Peter, “Nothing says instant gratification like floating pencils and making flash lights,” He turned back to the page, eyes stopping on a line for a moment and he read it over a few times, trying not to frown before he turned the page over and kept on.

Derek watched the two nervously before sitting down by Isaac and picking back up their conversation. He could see the unusual relationship forming between his uncle and Stiles just before his eyes.

Though he’d suspected interest on Stiles’s side of the spectrum long before now, it actually took him by surprise to see the change in Peter. It was definitely for the good - everyone else sat close together, but Peter had always been alone in the back, watching over them.

With Stiles beside him now, it actually made him feel... A little easier.

* * *

Stiles walked through the front door of Peter’s apartment, ready to toss the book in the older man’s lap and tell him he was right, but he stopped and looked around the empty livingroom, the lights all turned out and he tilted his head in confusion, “Peter?” He asked, locking the door behind himself and stepping out of his shoes.

He walked through the apartment carefully, checking the kitchen first and then following it back and turning to the bedroom, the door already ajar and his insides twisted when he saw Peter there, looking fucking gorgeous, all passed out with messed up hair.

Stiles stepped into the room tentatively for a moment before walking across to the bed and his eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as he took in the hairy chest, his mouth watering and he swallowed as he heard his own voice for a moment, somewhere inside his head saying ‘I bet you have a hairy chest’.

Stiles’s brows narrowed and he touched the alpha’s shoulder, “Uh... Peter?”

“Mm,” Peter mumbled, deep within a dream involving a very drunk, very willing Stiles, “No.”

He rolled to his side and swatted the hand on his shoulder away, hand suspending mid-air and his eyes opened to find Stiles sitting just next to him, “Right, I forgot to lock the damn door,” The alpha groaned, throwing an arm up over his face, “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Umm, it’s like one in the afternoon,” Stiles said, grinning slightly at the state of the older man, “I guess I forgot to text and make sure you were awake. You look **adorable** when you wake up, all cuddle-able and shit.”

He set the book down and sat on the side of the bed, “So I read the front page over like fifty times, but I never put together the meaning of one... Really important sentence.”

“I’m not **adorable** and I don’t cuddle,” Peter growled, voice muffled from his arm and he finally rolled to his back again.

Smacking his lips as he looked up at Stiles, hair sticking up against the pillow, the alpha sighed, “And that sentence was what exactly?” He asked, stretching and rubbing at his eyes.

“Any spell that makes something the way it is can only be changed back by the castor,” Stiles said, watching the older man hungrily. He was conflicted at the moment, wanting to curl into a ball and cry because his natural form was gone, but also staring at Peter was doing all _kinds_ of things to him, “So yeah, happy? You were right.”

Peter sat up on his elbows and looked at Stiles, shaking his head and not even bothering to smile, “No, I’m not happy.”

Normally he took great pride in being able to say, ‘I told you so!’, but this just wasn’t one of those cases, “I just wish you would’ve believed me when I told you. I **tried** telling you, but you’re so... So damn **stubborn** , you don’t listen to anything anyone tells you.”

He rolled more to one elbow and his brows knitted together, hand resting on the younger man’s knee sympathetically, “Has it sunk in, yet? Have you told your father?”

“Not yet,” Stiles felt his bottom lip quiver and he shook his head, “I’m actually kinda terrified to tell him. He’s not gonna be happy but-”

He looked at Peter as tears started building in his eyes, “What can I do? I can’t fix it. He’s gonna have a fucking heart attack and,” Stiles shook his head, “I don’t... I don’t know what I’m gonna say, I can’t...”

Peter felt his insides twist as he watched the tears build up in Stiles’s eyes, sitting up a little more on the bed and scooting closer, “It’s a lot to take in, I get it,” The alpha said, reaching up to rest his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, instead, “But he loves you, regardless of what gender you are. It may take him a while to fully get used to it, but he’s not going to have a heart attack, Stiles. It’ll be fine.”

He sighed and smiled slightly, “At least look at the pros, you didn’t get stuck with a horrendous looking female form. At least you’re actually still attractive. That’s a plus, right?”

Stiles started to laugh for a moment before he was overcome with tears and he shook his head. He pulled back from Peter to collect himself and grabbed his book as he stood from the bed, “Sorry, I just... I came over to let you know you were right.”

He looked at the alpha as his body shook and more tears fell down his cheeks, “I get it, I’m stuck this way.” Stiles clenched his fists and left the room before he could embarrass himself any more than he already had.

Peter narrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Stiles leave the bedroom and he shook his head as he pushed up off of the mattress to follow after him.

“Stiles, wait a minute,” He said, sauntering out of his bedroom and reaching up to flatten his hair a little, “I’m actually trying not to be a dick. I’m trying to console you instead and you still think all I want is the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’?” This was precisely why he didn’t do relationships, because any time he even remotely tried, it backfired.

Stiles turned around and looked at Peter, “I... What? I didn’t say that’s what I thought,” He chuckled a bit, wiping away his tears, “Believe it or not, but I believe you. I know you’re being sincere, I’m not a complete idiot. Not everyone **expects** you to be an asshole.”

He shrugged helplessly, “My reason for wanting to leave is a **bit** more simple than that. I’m a guy, and I don’t really like crying in front of other people. It’s a little weirder to do it in front of a sleepy, half-naked alpha.”

Peter looked down at himself and crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to cover himself, looking back up at Stiles, “I can get dressed, but you came here for a reason. If you really want to go, I’m not going to stop you.”

He wet his lips, “Am I the first person you told?”

“Besides for me, yeah, you’re the only one that knows,” Stiles confirmed, moving and sitting on the couch, “You don’t have to cross your arms, I know what chest hair looks like,” He was amused by Peter’s sudden realization of his nudity, and Stiles had to fight the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it, so he settled for staring a bit instead.

Peter uncrossed his arms and smoothed his hand from his chest down to his stomach before moving over to the couch, sitting on the opposite side of Stiles, “Why tell me first?” He asked, staring at the younger man, “Why not tell Scott or Derek, or Hell, even Lydia? Why did you come here?”

“Same reason as last time, really,” Stiles admitted at once, “I told you because I trust you to actually respect my boundaries, and respond with something both sarcastic and enlightening,” He repeated from before.

“Lydia is Lydia, Scott is still nervous around me, Derek is... Derek,” Stiles made a shivering motion with his body and smiled, “Isaac, apparently, would be more happy about it than anyone, I’m thinking. I don’t want happy or nervous, or some emotionally constipated man looking at me, or Lydia offering to go shopping for more clothes, since I’m stuck like this.”

“I’m afraid I’m all out of snark today,” Peter propped his legs up on the table and shrugged, “And I’m pretty sure you’re not going to get anything insightful out of me this soon after waking me up. Thank you, by the way, I was having one of the best dreams I think I’ve ever had and you had to go and bring me back to reality,” He teased, offering a small smile.

“Have you tried any more magic?”

Stiles grinned wide and nodded, “Yeah, I actually learned something bad this morning, using magic comes with a really **bad** side effect.”

He turned to Peter completely, “I didn’t _forget_ to text you, because I can’t text you,” Stiles pulled his cell phone from his pocket and showed the busted front to the alpha, “I had been doing these uh... These magic exercises and my phone went off, and I zapped the poor thing.”

Peter winced and looked at the phone, “You should be more careful, maybe you should only practice around someone or other people, like pack... In case something goes wrong.” He didn’t particularly like the fact that he was starting to care more for the younger man, but there wasn’t really anything he could do to stop it.

“Ain’t nobody got time for that,” Stiles said, making a face and rolling his eyes, “Seriously, no one is going to chalk up time to sit and watch me stare at my hands for an hour with no results. I don’t mind doing it on my own. I just... Didn’t get to the chapter about how bad it is to use magic around electronics. Now I know, lesson learned.”

He sat up slightly, “But this was the price,” Stiles put his phone down and put his hands out in front of him, as if cupping water. First, there was nothing, and then it was like he’d lit a flame a few inches off the top of his palms, the size of a golf ball and flickering before it became a solid flame.

Peter’s eyes widened and he dropped his legs from the table to lean forward, scooting closer to Stiles to get a good look at it, “That is extraordinary,” He said breathlessly.

The alpha looked from the flame to Stiles’s face and gestured to it with his index finger, “It doesn’t hurt or anything does it? Can you feel it at all?”

“Mm, not really, just this kinda pulling in my arms, but I don’t feel the heat,” Stiles said, grinning at Peter’s reaction, “This little guy is permanent, until I put it away or use it. It’s actually pretty dangerous, yeah. If you touched it, it’d be like touching an open flame. It can’t hurt me, though. I can also do this,” He concentrated on it for a moment as the flame changed into water and fell down into his hands.

The alpha chuckled and reached out tentatively to dip his finger in the water pooling in Stiles’s palms, “You’re learning pretty quickly.” He smirked and flicked the water at the younger man’s face, “It really is amazing, you should show Derek. I think he’d approve.”

Stiles shrugged and opened his hands as if to drop it on the couch, but the water vanished at once, as well as what Peter had flicked onto his face, “Something tells me that he really doesn’t care for parlor tricks."

"That’s all they are right now, and I’m only learning quickly because I have a strong imagination, and insomnia,” He sat back, a bit breathless as he relaxed again, “Fire and water are easy mode. It’s light and life that’ll be the hardest. Light pretty much takes all of the energy I have just to make the damn thing flicker for two seconds, and then I’m winded for hours. Life though, that’s the last one, and I’m not really tempted to fuck with that one at all because I could actually kill myself.”

Peter shook his head and moved back to where he’d been sitting, resting his hand on his stomach, “Yes, perhaps you shouldn’t toy too much with that one. If I were you I’d just stick to the less life threatening tricks.”

He glanced at the younger man’s lips and remembered how pliant and soft they’d been beneath his own, inwardly scolding himself for even looking, because he’d been doing just fine fighting temptation up until now.

“The exercise I was doing was making the flame and then making it bigger slowly, until it was the size of like a basketball, and then so small I could barely see it,” Stiles explained, picking the book back up again, “Either way, if I threw it across the room, it’d light up the house like a damn Christmas tree, so I get where the term ‘playing with fire’ comes from.”

He looked Peter over, smiling and staring at his chest, “So, why are you sleeping in the middle of the day? Just happen to be **that** bored?”

_Bored, lonely. As you so eloquently pointed out, I have no one._

Peter shrugged and smirked at the younger man, not failing to catch his gaze drift, “I was up late, werewolves need sleep too, you know. Besides, I’m a grown ass man, if I want to sleep in the middle of the day, then I’m going to sleep in the middle of the day. Which reminds me, hasn’t anyone ever told you not to wake a sleeping werewolf? I could’ve killed you.”

“Please,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “Give me a week, and I’ll be able to prevent any of you from actually causing me harm at all,” He smiled as he shifted slightly, “Besides, you looked too peaceful to jump when you were woken, and I **was** careful. It’s not like I ran up and tried to spook you awake.”

“I looked peaceful?” Peter grinned and wet his lips, “What were you doing, staring at me while I was sleeping?” He teased, “Now who’s the creeper.”

The alpha chuckled and relaxed back against the couch, “It’s the chest hair, isn’t it?” He smoothed his palm over it and looked at Stiles, grinning wider, “It’s fine, I get it all the time.”

Stiles laughed and shrugged, “It **was** the chest hair,” He admitted, watching Peter touch himself, “I didn’t sit and stare for long, but I **did** have to take a moment to admire the amazing state of your hair. Reminded me a bit of when we first met, only shorter, and cleaner.”

“Ah, yes,” Peter nodded and finally looked away, raising a hand to flatten his hair again, making sure it wasn’t sticking up all over the place, “Well, we can’t all have good hair days, now can we?”

He was silent for a moment, staring numbly at his feet and his mouth opened slightly when he realized what the younger man had said, turning his head to look at Stiles again, “Wait a minute, you mean to tell me you remember what my **hair** looked like the first time we met? That’s insane... And also kind of flattering.”

“It’s pretty permanently scarred into my brain, I’m sure,” Stiles said, smiling widely, “I thought I was gonna die, so naturally I wouldn’t forget that. I also remember being terrified that you knew my name.”

He wet his lips and glanced up to Peter’s hair, “I don’t mind seeing it all messed up. Not many people can pull it off. And it’s nice seeing the werewolf in it’s natural habitat.”

“Oh, an animal joke, that’s nice, Stiles,” Peter raised his brows, still smiling even though he didn’t want to. His cheeks were even starting to ache a little bit, “Nice to see you didn’t lose your sense of humor... **Completely**.”

Stiles pulled his feet up onto the couch and stared at the older man as he rested his chin on his knees. Peter looked good, smiling and dressed down, relaxed, it was almost surreal to watch him, “Me and animal jokes go way back. Did I ever tell you about the time that I made a dog bowl for Scott, with his name on it?”

Peter turned bodily on the couch and rested his arm on the back of it, eyes wide as he stared at him incredulously, “You did not...” He gaped and chuckled at the imagery provided, “That’s funny, I knew there was a reason I liked you well enough to not cause you bodily harm for barging into my apartment whenever you please.”

“I’m not the **nicest** person, some times I seek revenge,” Stiles grinned wider at Peter’s response and continued, “It was during the full moon effects, too, I poured water into the bowl and put it down in front of him. Yeah, not really a nice guy. Smart, funny, but not nice."

"So are you giving up on trying to figure out my sexual orientation? Because you didn’t really say anything when I said you were wrong, before.”

“There was a reason I didn’t press further last time,” Peter said, smile fading slightly, “I had been pretty confident of my answer... And then you told me I was wrong, so... Now I’m not sure. There are certain things I know for **fact** , but it could all just be circumstantial.”

Stiles nodded silently as he listened and finally raised a brow, “Okay, so tell me what you know for **fact** , and I’ll confirm them for you, or tell you if your facts are wrong,” He liked seeing Peter struggle with it, though, the guy was so curious to know, almost like his life depended on it.

Peter shook his head and his smile finally disappeared completely, “No, I shouldn’t.”

If they talked about it and if he told Stiles, then the younger man would probably remember what they’d done, and that was a whole other set of things he really wasn’t up for discussing at the moment.

“As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t even discuss it at all,” He was trying his hardest not to be rude about it, “Consider me done trying to find out.”

Stiles frowned slowly and nodded again, “Ah,” He said and, though it’d just been such a simple, amusing game, it actually hurt to hear that the guy had apparently lost all interest.

He tried to ignore the little pang of hurt that was like sharp barbs cutting along the sides of his hands and picked up his book instead, “I should probably go, anyways, let you get back to sleep or... whatever,” He stood from the couch and  moved to the door to put his shoes back on, “Lots of people to tell about me being stuck this way for the rest of my life.”

Peter frowned as well and turned on the couch to look at Stiles, nodding minutely, “Good luck, hope everything goes okay.”

He wanted to stop Stiles from leaving, but he’d have to have some kind of reasoning, and ‘ _I think I might like you. Like, like you like you_ ’ wouldn’t exactly suffice.

“I actually believe you mean that,” Stiles said, smiling sadly as he tried to keep things kosher between them, even though he was kind of upset, “Thanks for talking, it was nice, and... More than I was expecting, considering I don’t... Really... Expect like... Anything from you,” He unlocked the door, waving weakly before he left.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles sat down in the mall’s food court, setting his bags by their sides and watching the water fountain for a moment, “I don’t know, I don’t like the idea of another girl’s night out, sounds fun, and getting drunk is awesome, but I can’t even remember the last. I remember you going, and then this guy hitting on me, and kicking him in the nuts, the rest is like... A blur. I don’t really want a repeat of that.”

Lydia narrowed her brows and pulled her phone from her purse, pausing to look at Stiles, “You don’t remember?” She asked, sighing, “Well, first of all, I’m not ditching you for a hottie this time. We’re gonna be attached at the hip and you’re sure as Hell **not** leaving with Peter again, not if I can prevent it.”

“Peter?” Stiles blinked as he watched Lydia in confusion, “Why was I with Peter? He wasn’t even at the club. And how do you even know who I left with?” Still, though, now that he thought about it, the hand, the chest hair, and now he could hear his response as Peter had joined him at the bar, ‘ _What’re you doing here? This is girl’s night-girl night out._ ’

“Apparently the creep was,” Lydia shrugged, “Danny said he saw you leaving with him. I, myself, am not a hundred percent sure, because I didn’t see it with my own two eyes, but Danny had seemed pretty serious about it. I don’t think he’d lie about something like that.”

Stiles felt like his brain was melting as everything _else_ started filtering through, telling Peter about trying to get himself off with the pillows - Stiles felt his cheeks heat - he remembered kissing Peter and coming onto him **strongly** , and finally the alpha giving in and taking him outside. His eyes widened as he remembered the older man’s voice in his ear, ‘ _You’re so fucking soft_ ’, ‘ _And so wet_ ’.

Stiles nearly stood up as the light above them exploded and he heard his phone - his new fucking phone - fry in his pocket, “Oh god.”

Lydia gasped and jumped slightly in her seat, gripping the table and looking from her phone up to Stiles, “I’m going to assume I really don’t want to know what caused that.”

She frowned and tapped at the screen to no avail, jabbing at it so hard that it was surprising that the screen didn’t crack, “Okay sparky, this magic crap is getting kinda freaky, And now I need a new phone.”

“You and me both,” Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket and frowned, “Poor little guy didn’t stand a chance.”

He stopped talking as he heard a woman nearby start complaining as well, and then a few more, and a few more, and his cheeks flushed as he looked at Lydia, “Uh... We should... Probably **go**.”

* * *

Stiles chose not to tell Peter what he remembered about the ‘Girl night’ out, for a few reasons, he liked to think. It would’ve been weird to just bring up, and he didn’t even know **how** to go about doing it.

How do you walk up to a man and just say ‘I remember about you getting me off while I was drunk’? You probably don’t.

That, and by admitting he remembered, he’d have to acknowledge how many times Peter had vehemently turned him down during, and after things, and that the alpha had payed a guy to flirt with Stiles.

It was also Peter’s turn to come out, whether he did or not, because he didn’t know Stiles remembered, Stiles didn’t really care. He didn’t want to put himself out there again, and be turned down when he **wasn’t** drunk. The answer would likely still be the same anyways. He only had so much backbone and so much ego, and so much self-esteem. And all of it wasn’t really doing very well at this point.

So, instead, he buried himself in magic, almost literally.

He put a stop to practicing for the time being and adopted Hermione’s approach, reading it all before trying it out.

Now that he’d gotten things rolling, and fried two - make that three - cell phones, his laptop, and his Xbox, he decided that he either needed to find out how to keep it all in, or get rid of electronics for good. It was definitely a motivator in priorities. So he didn’t replace everything at once.

Stiles had been mostly on his own for the next week, opting to hermit in his room and keep the light out, turn off everything as he read through books like he was studying for something that wasn’t _magic_.

He only went out for the weekly pack meet, and refused **not** to sit down next to Peter, even though he was still hurting a bit, he wanted to at **least** be a friend for the older man, even though Stiles could never have him the way he wanted to. Friends was fine.

So, without a cell phone or a laptop, or even an Xbox to talk to Scott over, the last thing Stiles was expecting was to have a fucking emergency. He’d been hurting all morning, body aching, stomach twisting up in knots like someone was trying to rip his goddamn guts out with a hot poker, so he finally just had enough with it and laid down, curling his body into the fetal position for nearly three hours before he started to feel even _more_ uncomfortable.

Stiles sat up and pulled the blanket away, looking down at his waist before screaming and jumping from his bed.

Thankfully, his dad wasn’t at the house, so he opened his bedroom door and fled to the bathroom at once. He stripped out of his light tan capris, now red, and stepped into the bath tub, looking down at his thighs and feeling suddenly faint, “Oh my god, _no_.”

He was having trouble breathing and sat there in the tub for nearly ten minutes before he showered off, and then sat on the toilet for another five before he decided that he needed to call **someone**. But he couldn’t just run downstairs and grab their home phone with his body leaking blood all over the stairs. Stiles looked at his pants and sighed, those were done.

He wiped himself down like fifty times and shoved a wad of toilet paper between his legs, then proceeded to stand carefully, keeping his thighs close somewhat as he got up and walked from the bathroom.

He opened the closet on the other side and grabbed a red towel, stuffing it between his legs as well before taking down the large, dark beach towel and wrapping that around his body to cover himself. Then he started the slow descend to the kitchen.

He got to the phone and picked it up with shaking hands, dialing Lydia and waiting as he tried to keep his magic from zapping the phone.

* * *

Lydia was in the middle of hanging up her new clothes when she heard her phone vibrate against her night stand, trying to get everything put away before she had to take Jackson to the airport.

She sighed and patted her new jacket before moving to pick her phone, “Hello,” She singsonged.

* * *

“Lydia!” Stiles paused for a moment as he tried to think of what he wanted to say.

It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with talking about female cycles, he just... Wasn’t really use to having one **himself** , “I... I need your help! I’m dying, there’s blood **everywhere**! It... It won’t stop.”

* * *

Lydia grimaced and sat down on the side of her bed, “Oh, honey, you’re not dying. And you’d know I’d be there in a heart beat, but I literally have to go pick Jackson up and make sure he gets to the airport. He can’t miss his flight. Is there anyone else you can call?”

* * *

“They’re all **guys**!” Stiles groaned in pain and doubled over, clutching the phone to his ear, “Oh my god it fucking _hurts_! I only know Derek, Scott, and Peter’s numbers, I... My cell is dead... Again.”

He winced as he tried to breathe calmly, “And I don’t really think this phone is gonna last if these cramps get any worse.”

* * *

“You used to be a guy, Stiles, it’ll be fine,” Lydia tried to reassure him, “Try Scott first, he’s your best friend and he has a girlfriend, so I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard someone talk about their period. But considering it’s your first time, you should really only try pads for now, okay? And if you do need tampons, don’t go and get the super huge ones unless your flow requires it, because you can get sore.”

* * *

“Flow? What the fuck, how do I know if I **don’t** need big ones? Never mind,” Stiles narrowed his brows and hung up, he didn’t really have the fucking time to sit around and talk to someone that couldn’t help him. He dialed Scott carefully, trying like all Hell to keep his magic contained but he could feel it slipping now.

* * *

Scott was in the middle of having lunch with Allison and some of her extended family that had flown in from Arkansas when he felt his phone go off in his pocket.

One of her Uncles was going on enthusiastically about his golden days, and although it was all pretty much just inane rambling at this point, he wasn’t about to be rude and just answer his phone and say, ‘I’m sorry, could you just give me a minute?’.

Instead, he just let it vibrate and go to voicemail.

* * *

“Hi, you’ve reached-”

“Scott!” Stiles frowned and growled in annoyance as he listened and sighed in pain.

“-my voicemail, chances are I’m in the middle of something, but I’ll get back to-”

“Fuck you,” Stiles said, seething as he hung up and the light above him popped like a balloon.

He looked around and moved from the kitchen, carefully going upstairs because he didn’t want to break any household appliances, his Xbox had been bad enough.

He went back to the bathroom instead, taking off the towels and sitting on the toilet, grabbing the wadded up toilet paper which was now more blood than it was paper, and dropping it in the bowel before turning and reaching across, turning the water on with his wrist and holding his hand under the tap.

Of **course** he’d have to call Derek, _of fucking **course**._

Stiles dried his hand off on the towel he’d had wrapped around his body and dialed the alpha, biting his bottom lip as his cheeks heated. He was so fucking screwed.

* * *

Derek pulled his phone from his pocket and answered it, stilling in the aisle after grabbing a box of Cocoa Puffs, “Yeah?” The alpha tucked the box under his arm, wondering why he even bothered getting the damn cereal if it’d just end up gone by the next day.

* * *

“Derek,” Stiles breathed as he closed his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if he was grateful, or really embarrassed that the guy had **actually** picked up, “You’re not really busy, are you? Tell me you’re not, I need your help, I’m like... Fucking **dying**.”

* * *

Derek furrowed his brows and lowered his voice so the woman passing him couldn’t hear, “What do you mean you’re dying? What’s wrong, Stiles?”

The panic in the younger man’s voice was easy to hear, but most of the time Stiles was just generally over exaggerating the significance of the situation.

* * *

Stiles closed his eyes even tighter and tried to breathe, “Okay, if you fucking hang up, I’m going to murder you, I’m not even kidding. I’ll float a pencil through your window and stab **holes** into your head while you sleep, so don’t fucking hang up, or turn into a guy on me. **I’m a guy**.”

He paused for a moment, bit his bottom lip and said, very lowly, “I started my period, and I **need** your help.”

* * *

Derek’s eyes widened slightly and he shook his head as he sighed, pulling the phone away from his ear to look at it, wondering if he’d heard Stiles correctly.

“Why do you need **my** help?” He asked, “You could call Scott or Lydia, Isaac or even Peter.”

* * *

“Don’t you think I’ve fucking called a **few** people before calling you, you fucking dumbass!” Stiles roared and gripped the phone tightly in his hand.

“This isn’t a proud fucking moment for me! I’m not fucking chipper and happy to be calling you about something as personal as this you goddamn Cro-Magnon. Are you going to help me or not? Because if not, I need to go and ask **another** person, someone that’s not from the fucking Paleolithic **Period**.”

* * *

“Or not,” Derek supplied flatly, “You’re a little too hostile and I think that says a lot coming from me, Stiles. You probably would’ve gotten more out of me if you’d asked nicely instead of biting my head off. Good luck, though.”

The alpha pulled his phone from his ear again and hit the end button before putting his groceries up on the belt to check out.

* * *

Stiles nearly fucking lost it and the **bathroom** light exploded, shattering faster and more abruptly than anything else before, pieces of glass stabbing into the walls and one of them hit the mirror just hard enough for it to break as well.

He was half-tempted to throw the phone against the wall but he resisted, considering it was _actually_ still working. He dialed Peter last, not nearly as nervous as he had been with the rest because he was so fucking pissed that he couldn’t think straight.

* * *

“Stiles,” Peter said somewhat exuberantly as he answered his phone, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he slipped his shoes on, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He already knew why the younger man was calling, his nephew had texted him, warning him in advance.

* * *

“This isn’t a pleasure call in the **slightest** , but if you hang up on me, I’ve got **two** alphas to murder, and not just one,” Stiles breathed as he held his stomach and winced in pain.

“You’re never busy, so can you do me a favor?”

* * *

“I’m insulted that you actually think I don’t have anything to do with my spare time,” Peter smiled and grabbed his keys before heading out to his car, sliding in and turning the keys in the ignition, “But sure, I could do you a favor. What do you need?”

* * *

Stiles’s cheeks heated, but he was glad that the older man seemed to be in one of those ‘amused’ moods, it was better than talking to a goddamn brick wall, an answering machine, and a diva on her way to the airport.

“Can you... Pick me up... Some... **Female** things,” He was **not** going to say pads, or tampons, he wasn’t. He fucking **refused** to. He didn’t care what Peter assumed, as long as the guy had a goddamn brain in his head, he’d know what Stiles was talking about.

* * *

“Female things,” Peter repeated, chuckling as he pulled out onto the main road, “That’s vague, Stiles,” He teased, “Do you want me to get you some make-up and a pretty frilly dress?”

The alpha didn’t give Stiles time to answer, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding... I’m assuming your father isn’t home, is the front door unlocked?”

* * *

“No,” Stiles shut his eyes tightly, “But there’s an emergency key under a rock outside, the one that says ‘Inspire’,” He wasn’t really supposed to **tell** people about it, but he figured Peter was fine. He **did** trust the guy, especially if he was willing to call him about this, “You _do_ actually know what I’m talking about, right? You’re just pretending to be as stupid as Derek?”

* * *

“Tampons or pads, Stiles?” Peter sighed out the question as he pulled into a Walgreen’s parking lot, killing the ignition, “Or do you want both? And how about some Midol? I don’t imagine that stomach of yours is feeling the best right now.”

The alpha got out of the car and went inside, ignoring the looks he was getting when he stopped in the feminine hygiene section.

* * *

“I don’t know, all of the above,” Stiles shrugged and put his hands up, “And yeah, you don’t... No guy knows what this is like, it’s the fucking **worst**.”

He was actually kind of surprised that Peter was taking it so well. Of **course** the oldest in their group would be the most mature about it, “It’s like every cramp or stomach pain you’ve ever had in your life, all at one time, over and over again.”

* * *

“Have you tried putting any heat on it?” Peter asked, grabbing more than one box of tampons, because he wasn’t sure which size to get, “Do you have a heating pad? If not, standing under hot water might help, as hot as you can stand it.” He grabbed a couple packs of pads, a bottle of extra strength Midol and went to the check-out counter.

* * *

“Sure, no, I haven’t... I mean, I don’t really know _anything_ about ways to stop my stomach from hurting because of cramps like this. Can you get light bulbs too?” Stiles asked suddenly, looking up, even though he couldn’t really _see_ anything in the bathroom, “I’m pretty sure I’ve blown like... Six now. And my dad’s gonna kill me when he sees the mirror.”

* * *

“Yeah, Stiles, I’ll be there shortly,” Peter assured, holding his finger up to the cashier before jogging back to grab a couple packs of light bulbs, “Try the heating pad or hot water in the meantime, okay?”

He walked back up to the register and sat the bulbs down, waiting patiently as the elderly woman rang him up and he swiped his card to pay for everything.

* * *

“You’re amazing, thank you,” Stiles hung up at once and put the phone down.

He covered his mouth for a moment and tried to breathe as he sat back and willed himself to concentrate, putting his hands together and drawing in as much energy as he could.

He hadn’t actually **done** any real magic in the past few days, but that didn’t seem to be a problem. The small sphere of light formed in his hands and lit up the bathroom better than any candle or flashlight would’ve done. It wasn’t as good as a 100 watt light bulb, but it was fucking close enough.

He didn’t even have the energy to feel proud of himself for accomplishing something that hadn’t been possible thus far. He was just thankful that he was able to pull it off.

Stiles set it down on the counter, balancing it between the rim of the sink and the Listerine, then climbed back into the shower, rinsing off his body and drying down, rolling up another wad of toilet paper before stepping across the hall to open the closet again.

Thankfully, he was a very clumsy person, and while he didn’t have a heating pad, he **did** have a hot water bottle. He turned the tap on and waited for it to get as hot as possible before filling the thing, closing it back up, and setting it against his gut. He didn’t even bother leaving the bathroom as he sat back on the toilet, took a breath, and waited.

* * *

Peter smiled and tucked his phone away before grabbing the bags, nodding to the cashier before leaving. He put everything in the back seat and pealed out of the parking lot, heading for Stiles’s. It wasn’t like he had to actually go out and do any of this, he could’ve just told him ‘no’ like everyone else had, but he didn’t like the idea of Stiles not having anyone to rely on.

The alpha parked across the street and got out, grabbing the bags and heading towards the house, only stopping long enough to snag the key from the little rock. Peter let himself in and shut the door, locking it and looking around tentatively before following Stiles’s heart beats up the steps.

“I’m here,” He called out, stopping just at the top of the staircase, “Where do you want me to put all of this stuff? Just leave it in front of the bathroom door?”

Stiles had **thought** he was over being nervous, but he blushed when he heard Peter and started to nod when he realized _of course_ the guy couldn’t **see** him, “Uh yeah, yes, please.”

Peter settled the bags down on the floor just in front of the bathroom door, “Alright, they're out here. I’m gonna go, if you need anything else just call, okay?”

“Mhm,” Stiles said as he winced and breathed carefully, “Yeah, I’ll... I’ll do that.”

He waited until he heard footsteps on the stairs and opened the door, grabbing the bags and dragging them into the bathroom before shutting the door again. He sifted through and was about to settle for pads when he realized he didn’t have underwear in the bathroom with him.

He grabbed the tampon box and opened it, looking through and grabbing a ‘regular’, but when he opened the little plastic-like package it was in, he frowned and shook his head. He was fucking leaking like a goddamn shower, there was no way it was ‘regular’. He opened one of the larger ones and, though he was still tentative about the size, he took it out, with the instructions, and started reading them over, “ _You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me._ ”

Peter had just made it to the door and was about to step out, about to leave when he heard Stiles. He turned and looked up the steps, brows furrowed in concern, “Is everything okay? You’ve got it under control, right?”

“ _If I were a woman, I’d fucking castrate the creator of this fucking perverted thing,_ ” Stiles murmured as he looked at the tampon and spread his legs slightly more. _Talk about fucking **embarrassing**_ , “I can’t believe they put up with this bullshit.”

Peter nodded sympathetically, “Just be easy with it and you should be fine. You’re good with instructions, you’ll figure it out.”

He gestured to the door with his thumb even though Stiles couldn’t really see him doing it, “Okay, I’m actually leaving now.” The alpha grabbed the door handle and opened it, locking it before stepping outside and closing it behind himself.

Stiles followed the instructions the best he could, but the moment it was inside, he couldn’t feel it, and it kind of worried him. He was even **more** worried that the fucking thing would get lodged up inside of him or something, so he ended up pulling it back out and **seriously** grossing himself out.

“I’m so going to be sick,” He said as he dropped it in the toilet bowl and gagged a few times.

Once everything was done, and he had a large one shoved up in his fucking vagina, and had wiped himself like fifty times, and washed his hands even **more** times, he took to cleaning up the mess - which consisted of his pants and underwear, both completely ruined, and his entire comforter set, sheet included, but thankfully the damage to the mattress itself was barely anything, and he scrubbed it clean for like two fucking **hours**.

He didn’t like having to do it all while he was cramping and trying to position his body in various ways to make sure that the tampon hadn’t floated up inside of him, never to be seen again, but he didn’t really have a choice.

Once the light bulbs were replaced and he’d taken the Midol, stuffed his capris and ruined panties in a bag under most of the trash bags in the bin at the end of the road, and dressed back in normal clothes - opting to wear a new pair of underwear that he didn’t particularly like - Stiles picked up his little orb of light and actually took a moment to feel **some** sense of pride at it. He wasn’t really sure what it was made of, but it was solid, and cold, and as big as a baseball.

It had been going strong for nearly three hours now, which he wasn’t sure if he should be concerned about it or not, and took back to reading to find out as much as he could about it.

What he found out didn’t surprise him, so he packed up a few things, grabbed his wallet and keys, dressed, stored all of the pads and tampons and Midol into his backpack before leaving the house and driving to Peter’s.

He didn’t knock, letting himself in and locking the door behind as he tossed the orb of light into the alpha’s hands and grinned, “Look what I made.”

Peter hadn’t even had time to roll his eyes at Stiles just walking in all nonchalantly before the younger man was tossing something at him. He caught it, wide eyed and startled as he leaned in to get a good look.

Glancing at Stiles, he smiled weakly, “You’re a crafty little shit, aren’t you?” He rolled it from hand to hand and smiled wider, “You’re getting better at it.”

“Dude, that thing has been going for **hours** now,” Stiles said, sitting relatively close to Peter on the couch, leaning over and smiling at the orb.

“I’m thinking of naming him, seeing as he isn’t going anywhere. He’s like... My personal, permanent flashlight, only more bad ass because he doesn’t use batteries, or heat up and burn people.”

“It’s impressive,” Peter nodded and side glanced the younger man before placing it gently back in Stiles’s hands, backs of his fingers brushing his palms, “And it’s astounding how quickly you’re picking all of this up, you’ll be a pro in no time.”

He was silent for a moment after he pulled his hands back, “So... How are other things? Still feel like you’re dying?”

“Yes,” Stiles said at once, taking the orb and setting it in his lap, “But the Midol helps, like an omega fuck-ton, thank you.”

He smiled at Peter and shrugged, “I’m not really moving **fast** as far as the magic goes, I’m just doing it all the time, I’ve spent the passed week reading, which is why my little flashlight came out so well on the first try. All the energy building up and not being spent regularly kinda made it possible to just ‘poof’, and done. Most first time learners don’t do things as often as I have been, which is probably proof that I have absolutely no social life.”

“Eh,” The alpha shrugged, “No judgement here, I can relate entirely.” He could relate a little _too_ well, actually. Aside from his casual hook-ups and pack meets, he really didn’t have much of a social life either. But then again, he was thirty-eight and Stiles was only eighteen.

Stiles chuckled and picked back up the orb, shifting it from hand to hand before floating it between them and moving it around in an infinity motion, “So, if you’re not too busy, you wanna go shopping again?”

“I’m not too busy,” Peter said, raising a brow at Stiles, “I do not, however, wish to be sized up again by elder women for buying tampons, so I’m hoping you have something else in mind.”

He realized that he needed to stop making himself so available, because he was doing exactly what he didn’t want to do - getting comfortable around the younger man. It was bad enough he already cared, but jumping anytime the kid said 'jump' was a little excessive.

“Did I mention how **seriously** grateful I was that you did that?” Stiles asked, raising his brows and _maybe_ flirting a little, “It was **horribly** manly of you to come to my rescue by bringing me things most men can’t even think of, let alone go into a store and purchase. A guy could owe you a favor.”

He stood, grabbing his orb from the space by Peter and smiling widely, “No, I actually have to get... A new comforter set, maybe a cell phone if I’m feeling brave, and we have to go to the most manly store of them all - Home Depot, so I think you’re safe from Tampons.”

“I believe I remember hearing a 'thank you' at some point, but if you feel the need to drone on to make sure I really understand just how grateful you are... I wouldn’t mind,” Peter smirked and stood up, moving around the couch and heading for his bedroom as he took his shirt off.

“Just a second and I’ll be ready to go,” He said, loud enough for his voice to carry down the hall.

Stepping into his room, he tossed his old shirt to the floor and grabbed a nicer one from the closet, pulling it on before walking back out of his room to slip his loafers on, “I hope you’re okay with stopping somewhere for food while we’re out, I’m famished.”

Stiles tilted his head and looked Peter over, “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I’m hungry or not. I’m guessing I am, since I haven’t eaten anything today, and if I’m not, I can just save it for later. And I wasn’t really thinking of thanking you _vocally_ , to be honest,” He winked at Peter and walked out of the house, out to his jeep and jumping into the driver’s side seat before reaching over and pulling his backpack from the passenger’s side.

Peter gaped at what he assumed was some sort of flirtation, taken aback by Stiles’s forwardness. He hadn’t seen quite that level of audacity since the night the younger man had gotten drunk.


	7. Chapter 7

The alpha followed almost numbly and climbed into the passenger seat, absentmindedly buckling his seatbelt as he quirked his head curiously to the side, staring at Stiles, “If not vocally, then how?” He asked. If Stiles was going to be bold, then he didn’t really feel like it was necessary to hold back, either.

“Not now, but soon,” Stiles said as he buckled up as well and pulled out of the parking spot, “I have to go clothes shopping again - for panties. If you wanna... You know... Tag along, let me know if they make my ass look good, things like that. Maybe you can even pick a few out for me.”

Nothing would likely happen between them, ever, but there wasn’t really any harm in looking, was there? He wasn’t stupid enough to think it could lead to something, but he knew Peter was at **least** interested in looking at his body.

“Huh,” Peter huffed disbelievingly before turning his attention elsewhere, “Well, I suppose if you’re going to let me, then I don’t really see how I could say no to that.”

Part of him was starting to become a little wary that the younger man either remembered or was starting to remember the night they’d fooled around, because he really couldn’t think of any other reason Stiles would be coming on this strong.

Stiles shrugged, “I really just don’t like the idea of going into a female store alone, that shit is fucking terrifying. That, and Lydia is **exhausting** ,” He kept the little orb seated in his lap as he drove, mindlessly reaching down and touching it every once in a while to make sure that it hadn’t just vanished.

“She’s sweet, sure, but she’s really exhausting when shopping. I may have changed on the outside, but I haven’t just suddenly gotten that need to buy clothes and paint my nails and shit. And, you know, it’s a nice body... Who **doesn’t** imagine it in underwear?”

He couldn’t try them on in the store, of course, that thought was romanticized on television, “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll try them on once I get them, and show you.”

Peter smirked and nodded as he wet his lips, “Right, well, as much as I’d like to see it, I’m not really the begging or asking nicely kind.”

Maybe he would end up asking, though, just to get Stiles in panties... _Alone_ , modeling them for him, “Although, I could be coerced into saying ‘pretty please’... It all depends on the panties, really.”

He was crossing his own boundaries, practically leaping over them and for the time being it felt nice, but he knew it’d probably come back to bite him in the ass.

“Well, if you’re the one picking them out, I can’t imagine you not wanting to see them being tested on the battlefield,” Stiles turned to look at Peter, “So did you wanna stop to eat first? And regardless on when, where do you wanna go? You might as well decide because I don’t even know if I’ll eat.”

Peter pursed his lips and shook his head, “No, it can wait. I’m not really in a rush to eat, whenever is fine.” That, and thinking about Stiles in panties was all he **could** think about, food was just a nuisance.

“Okay, so a comforter set,” Stiles mused as he thought about it.

He’d never bought one on his own, but he knew where to look, and he aimed for Walmart. He was trying to think if he needed anything **else** at the store, but it all boiled down to a new bathroom cabinet and a comforter set, “It’s pretty much impossible to match the last one, but I guess I’ll just have to settle for something new.”

“Something new isn’t always a bad thing,” Peter said mindlessly, fiddling with his seat belt for something to do as he offered Stiles a weak smile, “Are you going for something along the lines of what you had, or are you going to bend at the will of conformity and get something pink and flowery?”

Stiles made a face and shook his head at once, “Fuck pink and flowery, are you trying to make me sick? No, give me stripes, give me diamond shapes or squares, even **leaves** , but no girly shit.”

He motioned to himself then, “I’m still _Stiles_ in here, and even girls - lots of girls in fact - refuse to get flowery things.”

“Stiles is not a princess, point taken,” Peter chuckled and looked out the window, “How did your father take it? I imagine you’ve had the talk with him by now. He didn’t have a heart attack, now did he?”

Stiles frowned slowly and shook his head, “Nah, no, he didn’t have a heart attack,” He said, his voice becoming significantly softer as he stared ahead and swallowed, “I’m not actually sure if he’s _happy_ or angry, we don’t really talk much about like... Kumbaya shit. He told me he always wanted a daughter, and I don’t know if he’s saying it to... Make it easier, or to comfort me, or if he’s actually sincere.”

“Could be all three, maybe he wants you to know it’s okay and that he’s not mad about it, maybe he’s trying to comfort you, and **maybe** he was actually sincere about the whole wanting a daughter part,” Peter shrugged, “You were an only child and you were a male, maybe he wanted a daughter at some point.”

“I probably won’t ever really know,” Stiles admitted, shrugging, “I know how a **lot** of dads are about **sons** in particular. Chances are he’s lying, if you consider the percentage of men that want a son. It doesn’t matter,” He parked at Walmart and took off his seatbelt, wiping his face as discreetly as possible once he’d jumped out of the jeep.

Peter felt his chest constrict a little as he watched Stiles wipe his face, frowning as he climbed out of the jeep as well. He cleared his throat and tried changing the subject, “I’m surprised you didn’t call Lydia and bring her along instead of me, from what I hear she’s quite the avid shopper. I’m sure she would’ve come with you.”

“She also wouldn’t be caught dead in a Walmart,” Stiles said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and met Peter at the front of the jeep, “She’d probably try to convince me to buy something designer, and while I like soft linens, I’m not a fan of a comforter set that costs the same amount as my jeep.”

“Ah, I see,” Peter nodded, smirking, “So you didn’t ask me to come along because you really wanted me to... It was because you knew you wouldn’t get her to step foot in a Walmart.”

He placed a hand over his heart and pouted, “I’m wounded, Stiles.”

Stiles shoved Peter and chuckled, turning back to walk towards the store, “Not **just** because of Lydia. I have other motives beyond that, and not just one or two.” He liked the kind of comfortable banter between them, as long as he avoided things like relationships or possible interest, Peter and him would probably be okay.

Peter chuckled as well and stumbled before falling back in line next to Stiles, glancing at him and letting his gaze fall down to the younger man’s lips, “Ulterior motives, huh? I do believe I like the sound of that. I don’t suppose you'd care to enlighten me as to what these motives are?”

“Because I like you?” Stiles raised a brow, hoping that it came off more friendly than anything, so he elaborated, “I spend tons of time with Lydia, but she has friends, and so does everyone else. But I **actually** really like spending time with you."

"You’re amusing, and funny, and smart. You also have about as much of a social life as I do, so I figure,” He watched the alpha and smiled, “Why **not** keep each other company? Everyone needs some kinda of... Clique thing, in our pack, and you and I never really have had one. Considering we get along really well, and we’re both lonely, it just makes sense. That’s **one** other.”

“Okay, I suppose that makes sense,” Peter mused, unable to keep from smiling at Stiles, “What else, what other motives could you possibly have? And I have to say, you never really struck me as the type of person who’d have motives in the first place... That’s more my forte than yours.”

“I always have motives, are you kidding me? I have motives in like... Every little stupid, useless thing I do,” Stiles said as he dodged a couple people, moving closer into Peter’s space, “They’re not always selfish, but they **are** motives. Things like... I’m avoiding the house, I’m more distracted around you, and I’m successfully getting you out of your apartment as well. Things like that, I’m not _devious_.”

“Guess not,” Peter said, narrowing his eyes at Stiles, “Just being a good Samaritan and making sure I don’t wither away in my loneliness. You make it sound like I need to get out, as if living my life devoid of any and all meaningful human contact is going to turn me into the man I was before. That’s it, isn’t it? Or do you actually _care_?”

Stiles looked at Peter, smiling sadly as he watched the alpha, “I actually care, yes. Is that so surprising? And I don’t really care if you’re a little dark, a bit questionable, or kinda creepy, I’m fine with that. Gray is far more respectable of an area, in my opinion. I’m a bit gray myself. I don’t want to see you turn back into that man, but at the same time, I’m not trying to force you into being something you’re not. You’re **not** good. And that’s fine too. You’re also not bad.”

“Sometimes I wish I still was,” Peter admitted, “The monotony of **trying** to be decent and do the right things sometimes gets to me. I don’t really know why I bother. I mean, you said it yourself... I have no one and the pack hates me, so it’s not like I really have a reason to try."

"Don’t get me wrong, I’m not necessarily saying I’d rather be killing people again and scheming for dominance, but a little bit of mischief now and again doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You have me,” Stiles corrected the alpha, “I know I don’t count for much, I’m just a person, and not even a really significant person. But it’s one, and one is more than none. And some times one is all it really takes. I’m not saying I’d stop you from doing something questionable. But I’d stop you if I knew it was **really** fucking bad, like unforgivable bad. But you’re right, Scott’s whole thing about doing what’s right has pretty much done nothing but made him miserable, a lot.”

Peter wanted to correct Stiles and tell him that he was significant, but he stopped himself and bit his lip instead, nodding along to what the younger man was saying, “See? Being good and morally responsible is a drag. And I don’t know about you, but I like to have fun and I don’t really intend on denying myself simple pleasures.”

“You shouldn’t,” Stiles said as they reached the linens, “I don’t think anyone should have to force themselves to be something they aren’t. I mean, look at me,” He motioned to himself, holding his hands out, “I’m **literally** the walking and talking form of what I’m _not_ , but I don’t let it get to the inside. That’s where it matters. It’s too exhausting to change yourself for everyone,” He turned to the wall of comforter sets and sighed, “So don’t.”

Peter pocketed one of his hands as he listened to the younger man, eyes raking over the entire wall of comforter sets and he moved forward, his chest pressed to Stiles shoulder as he pointed to one, “You should get that one,” He said, smiling and reaching up to clasp his shoulder, “That shade of blue would compliment your skin tone... And it’s not girly.”

Stiles turned to look at Peter and his cheeks heated as the alpha touched him. He pulled his eyes away and stared at the comforter set the older man was pointing to, “True,” He said as he grabbed the ‘Full’ size set and read what it came with, nodding in agreement before smiling at Peter and taking it up, “Good eye.”

* * *

“It’s kinda weird buying a comforter set and a bathroom cabinet in the same day, it’s like both sides of the spectrum,” Stiles tucked the little orb of light under his seat again before locking up and joining Peter on the other side before they walked to the entrance doors of Home Depot, “Another one of my brilliant ulterior motives was having you carry this thing, I’ll admit.”

“Using me for my muscle,” Peter chuckled and looked at Stiles, smirking slightly, “I don’t know if I should feel offended or flattered, but I’m going with the latter. Considering you’re all small and frail now, I’m glad to be of service... But, you know they have pretty decent sized dollies... So I guess that means you just want to see me lift things.”

“That’s just a side benefit that came without full intent,” Stiles said and smiled back as they walked down one of the aisles to the heavier examples of home decor in the back of the store, “Besides, you’d probably feel **offended** if I went to someone _else_ for muscle, right? But I didn’t, I came to you. Big ol’ alpha male, it’s practically no sweat for you.”

Peter furrowed his brows, but he didn’t stop smirking at Stiles. He honestly wasn’t really sure if he would’ve been offended provided Stiles had sought out help from someone else, and that in itself worried him. It wasn’t really his place to be offended... Or jealous. They weren’t together, Stiles could do as he pleased and vice versa, “Glad you did, wise choice if I don’t say so myself.”

Stiles wet his lips and nodded as they reached the back and he figured that asking for help would’ve been smarter than going to look around on their own, so he walked up to the first guy he saw that was dressed for the job and reached up to tap on the guy’s shoulder.

The employee turned around and his eyes dropped down to meet the person, smiling when he met a pair of beautiful tawny eyes, “Hi there,” He said, gaze dropping briefly to her mouth, “I’m Devon.”

He glanced at the guy by her side before meeting her eyes again, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Peter rolled his eyes, because of course there was something he could help with, otherwise Stiles wouldn’t have tapped on his shoulder. The alpha pocketed his hands and tried to ignore the smile on the guy’s face when he looked at Stiles.

“Uh yeah,” Stiles smiled wide and stared back, “I need to replace a medicine cabinet, figured it’d just be... Less complicated than walking around.” How was it that every guy he met made him feel like he was two feet tall? Granted, the man was even bigger than Peter, so maybe he just made **everyone** feel two feet tall.

The guy nodded almost enthusiastically and shot another inquisitive look at the man with her, unsure if they were together or not. He reached up to touch her shoulder, jerking his chin in the opposite direction, “Right, sure, right this way.”

He guided her two rows over and pointed up at the display of cabinets, “If you need anything else, or if you need help loading whichever one you choose... Just let me know, I’d be happy to help.”

Peter sighed and he didn’t even bother to make it quiet, since the prick was obviously ignoring his presence for the most part. Stiles didn’t need help loading anything, that’s what he had Peter for.

The alpha straightened his back and moved forward, smiling dryly at the guy, “That’ll be all, we can handle it from here.”

Stiles glanced at the hand on his shoulder and he wasn’t really sure... But it was unusually intrusive for a guy he’d just met a second beforehand. He wasn’t so use to men being touchy with him, and didn’t normally go out anywhere lately that wasn’t **female** oriented, though he could remember the guy in the club had been **horribly** press-y, so the hand on his shoulder probably wasn’t anything to worry about.

Still, he could help grinning as Peter joined them again and then looked at the employee, “Sure, thanks,” He said, nodding and wetting his lips as he looked the guy over.

The employee smiled wider when he saw her eyes drifting down over his body and he felt bold, the demeanor between her and the guy she’d came in wasn’t one of a couple. He took the marker from his pocket and reached for her hand, turning it over before writing his number on her palm.

Capping the marker, he moved forward and leaned to whisper in her ear, “If you wanna see a little more, give me a call.” He looked at the guy once more before walking back off to stock shelves.

Peter gaped as he watched the employee and wondered idly if he should just turn the guy in for harassment or something, knowing that kind of shit would get him fired. _Who did that, anyway?_

Huffing incredulously, the alpha moved closer and grabbed his hand once the other man was out of sight, “The nerve of some people, it’s amazing, really.” He rubbed his thumb over Stiles’s palm, trying to smudge the phone number away.

Stiles pulled his hand from Peter’s grip and raised a brow at him, “What are you doing?” He asked a bit incredulously, eyes widening as he held it close to himself to stop him from trying again.

He was still kind of stunned that a man had **actually** flirted with him on his **own** terms, and even went as far as to give Stiles his number and whisper in his ear. But what kind of really took him back was Peter’s response to the exchange.

“The 'nerve' is **nice** ,” He said in the guy’s defense, “And maybe a little desired by someone who isn’t taken and never **has** been.”

Peter’s eyes widened and he spluttered before putting his hands on his hips, “You can’t be serious. I’m the master of creep and even that creeped me out. Who in the Hell just hits on a customer like that? I could’ve been your boyfriend for all he knew and he still hit on you, shamelessly at that.”

“What’s shameless about flirting without abandon?” Stiles asked, feeling his insides twist a little, “Flirting doesn’t have to be a fucking game of spy versus spy. It doesn’t have to be challenging. I kinda **like** a guy who thinks I’m attractive enough that he’ll throw himself out there a bit, even if he doesn’t know if I’m in a relationship or not, just because I look good. That’s actually really nice. Not everyone likes being interested in someone who’s own interest is questionable at **best**.”

Peter’s expression fell at Stiles’s words and he stepped back, putting his hands up and wetting his lips, “Fine, you’re right. Sorry.”

He told himself that he wasn’t going to frown, but he ended up doing so anyway, “You’re a big girl, now, you can do as you please... Not that you couldn’t before.”

Stiles narrowed his brows as he watched the alpha, “You’re always about ‘stop hating on casual sex’, yet when someone even comes **close** to coming onto me, either you’re disgusted, or you’re the one **paying** them to do it. What the fuck is your problem?”

“First of all I’d like to point out that you told me to try and find out your orientation, so I took matters into my own hands and did what I could to figure it out,” Peter crossed his arms, “Secondly, I’m disgusted because the guy is at work for fuck’s sake and he pretty much just eye-fucked you in front of me. I’m tempted to talk to his supervisor.”

After he was done seething, he fully realized what Stiles had said, "Wait..." He narrowed his brows together, "You know I paid the guy at the club?... Which means you remember."

“Of course I remember, I’m not stupid,” Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back to the cabinets, “I remember everything. And I **still** am willing to not only be friends with you, but keep you company and bring you into things like this. I’ve actually remembered for a while now. What did you think? I’d have a permanent case of amnesia and forget an orgasm like _that_?”

“Stiles,” Peter sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “You were drunk... Wasted, actually... Which doesn’t really make any of this look good on me, but yes, I thought you’d forget. I was actually kind of banking on it.”

And now he was thinking about it, how it felt to touch him, the wet heat around the tip of his dick, “And I really wish you’d stop making me seem like such a fucking charity case. Contrary to what you think, I don’t need any of this... I don’t need to get out and socialize. I’m perfectly fine being alone.”

Stiles frowned and turned as the older man spoke, narrowing his brows the more he complained and Stiles finally snapped, “If I thought you were a fucking charity case, **I’d** be the one buying out people to flirt with you, or be friends. Like it or not, I actually enjoy your company. I’m **not** perfectly fine being alone, and I’d prefer to remedy that by being around you."

"I’m fine with being friends - it’s not as much as I wanted from you, but I’m okay with that, I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t wanna do. But still you’ve gotta have a problem with someone trying to get close. It’s still such a fucking issue that someone actually fucking **cares** about you.”

“I can’t give you what you want!” Peter shouted, immediately regretting it and glancing down the aisles before looking back at Stiles sadly, “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do it,” He said, more softly this time as he frowned.

“I told you that night that I don’t do relationships, Stiles. They never work out and in the end I’m just alone again. So yes, I have an issue with you caring about me. It’s bad enough you’re all I fucking think about.”

Stiles nodded as he took in Peter’s words and tried not to let them get in too deep. He **knew** the older man didn’t do relationships, so he had to steel himself down and keep that in mind, “I know,” He said softly, reaching out to touch Peter’s wrists, “I know you can’t give me what I want, I can respect that. And I will. But you can’t push me away, or chase me away, it’s not gonna happen. I care about you, and I won’t _stop_ caring about you just because you refuse to feel the same way.”

Stiles looked up into Peter’s eyes and swallowed tightly, “I’m your friend, I’ll always be that. I don’t expect anything more, I never have. You’re just going to have to accept that, like I accept that you don’t want anything more.”

“I never said I didn’t care about you,” Peter shook his head, looking down to where Stiles was touching him, “And I never once said I didn’t _want_ anything more. There’s a slight difference between not wanting to and not being able to. Believe me, it’s better this way and it’ll save us so much grief in the future.”

He rolled his wrist in order to grab Stiles’s hand, squeezing it gently before letting go, “I’ll walk home, have **Devon** help you load the cabinet.”

“Less grief, right.” Stiles took in a sharp breath and smiled sadly up at Peter as tears filled his eyes, “Good one, ‘Pete’. That’s right up there with ‘it’s not you, it’s me’. Better to cut it off now before anyone gets invested.”

He nodded slowly before shaking his head as his bottom lip quivered, “It doesn’t work that way. There’s no ‘less grief’, there’s just... Grief. Well, go on... Grief’s that way,” He pointed behind Peter before turning back to the medicine cabinets as the tears finally started falling down his face.

“See?” Peter lifted his hand and gestured to Stiles's face, moving forward and turning the younger man back around again before reaching up to wipe the tears away, “It’s already more than it needs to be.”

He held Stiles’s face in his hands and smeared his thumb through a trail that a tear was making down his cheek, leaning in and pressing his lips to the younger man’s forehead, “I don’t want you to hate me... I just- I wouldn’t be able to make you happy. I could give you everything and I’d still fuck it up somehow, I’m sorry.”

The alpha pulled away and took off down the aisle, hands balled into fists at his sides as he wondered if denying them both a _chance_ at happiness now would prove to be the right choice later. If he walked away now, he’d probably survive, but if he fully let Stiles in and it went south... He wasn’t sure he’d walk away unscathed from that.

Stiles watched Peter’s back and felt his whole body ache, “I don’t hate you,” He said, knowing Peter would hear him, “I love you, and it sucks because I understand why you’re doing this. I’m not even mad or upset. I’m just hurt.”

He wiped the tears with the back of his hand and turned to the medicine cabinets, memorizing the number of the one he wanted before walking off to find Devon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have questions, you can always ask on [my blog](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/), or on [Sparklinski’s blog](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/), or in the comments here on AO3.
> 
>  
> 
> -WincestSounds


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles didn’t bother replacing the light in his room, exchanging it for a few orbs he had made and placed around. He didn’t even get another cell phone or buy another Xbox. Most of it was because he didn’t have the money to do it with, but also because he still couldn’t control his magic well enough.

He didn’t go outside of the house the entire next week, missed a pack meeting, and tried to get over his feelings for Peter as much as he could before he saw the alpha again. Which consisted mostly of concentrating on spell work and never answering the phone.

His dad had commented about it, to which Stiles just shook his head and reassured that it had to do with ‘lady things’, and then he just left the room, nodding and blushing.

Finally the next pack meet came around and Stiles took his usual spot he assumed **before** he’d started sitting with Peter.

He smiled weakly at Scott and patted his knee, “Surprised to see me?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Scott nodded and threw his arm around Stiles’s shoulders, pulling his friend closer and ruffling his hair, “You’ve been kinda distant lately, everything good?” He asked, letting go of him.

Peter swallowed thickly as he watched Stiles get situated, taking up a seat entirely too far away if he was being honest with himself. But it was okay, distance was good. It was what they needed. It didn’t stop everything inside of him from aching, though, wanting to move closer and just give in.

He could still hear Stiles’s words as he walked away, and he hoped more than anything they were true, hoped that the younger man **did** actually understand why it was a bad idea.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Stiles lied and continued on before anyone could object his claim, “I’ve been shoulder deep in magic, just practicing on that front. Trying to be useful, I guess.” He put his hands together and made another one of the little energy spheres before handing it over to Scott and grinning wide as he did so.

Derek’s eyes widened as he watched the younger man, he hadn’t initially been impressed, but **that** definitely got his attention and he leaned over to get a good look at it, “Wow...”

“Please,” Peter sighed at his nephew, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, “He could do that a week ago.” It’s not that he wasn’t impressed, because anytime Stiles showed him anything relating to magic, he always was. But he’d seen that little trick, long before the rest of them had.

“Yeah, but before... It was exhausting,” Stiles grinned wide at the little orb, trying not to let Peter’s words bother him, “That’s the fourth I’ve made. But I have something else, and it’s actually a defensive spell. Initially, I wanted someone to _help_ me test it out. So I had to get a bit creative with it, to make it work.”

He got up from the couch and looked at Scott, “Wanna help me for a moment?”

Peter felt his chest constrict painfully, because he knew that under better circumstances, he would’ve been the one to help Stiles. Instead of scowling and acting bitter like he wanted to, he watched and prepared for the jealousy to hit. Stiles had really only ever shown him his magic first, and now he was about to present it to the whole pack.

Scott pushed up out of his seat enthusiastically and moved to Stiles, hands on his hips as he narrowed his brows, “Wait, you said like... That it was a defensive spell, right? Dude, tell me I’m not gonna regret helping you.”

“It won’t hurt you,” Stiles chuckled as he watched his friend, “Come on, buddy, we’ve hurt each other **far** worse wrestling over controllers, it’s fine. But you gotta mean it, you gotta come at me full force, I refuse to accept slack,” He paused and backed up, “Or I **will** make it hurt.”

Derek turned in his seat to get a better look, staring curiously as Allison held the little glowing orb Stiles had handed over to Scott.

“I trust you to actually stop me,” Scott raised his brows and shook his hands at his sides, rolling his shoulders, “‘Cause if you don’t, I’ll probably seriously hurt you.”

The beta shifted, fur erupting along the sides of his face, fingernails becoming claws and he growled before charging Stiles at full force.

Stiles didn’t even lift his hands, but it was like Scott was suddenly stopped by a soft pillow of force between them, slowing the werewolf at first before stilling his movements completely.

Derek was so stunned that he actually stood up, and Boyd blinked from his spot by the wall before laughing in amazement, “Holy shit.”

Peter stood up from his stool so quickly the legs scraped loudly against the floor, gaping as he stared at Stiles.

He unfolded his arms and managed to close his mouth once he realized both Lydia and Allison were looking at him with raised brows, “That’s...” He huffed, trying to shrug the significance off, “It’s alright, _could_ come in handy.”

The alpha sat back down, even though he wanted to hug Stiles and tell him how amazing it was.

Scott chuckled and tried to move, but he couldn’t, “This is fuckin’ awesome, man,” He praised his friend and then frowned dramatically, “But seriously, you can let me go now.”

Stiles had turned when Peter and Derek stood - it was pleasing to see the reaction he’d elicited, but Peter’s words kind of annoyed something inside of him.

He pushed Scott back and released him so he didn’t fall, “Right now, it’s pretty much like running into a clear, invisible wall of water, kinda - or a bunch of marshmallows. That’s the defensive side of it. The offensive side is a little fucked up and I’ll probably never use it.”

He looked at Isaac, “Because it’s kinda twisted to force someone into a space too small, but it’s worse to force like a human-sized person into the space of say... A throw pillow.”

Isaac smiled slightly at Stiles and shrugged, “Could always use it if we really don’t like whoever it is we’re fighting.”

“Or you could just use it on random people, just for shits and giggles,” Peter said, smiling deviously before chewing on a hang nail. With the way Stiles described it, it definitely sounded like something he wanted to see demonstrated at some point.

“Like you?” Allison responded without looking back at the alpha and smiled to herself.

Stiles moved over and took the orb of light from her, “Or no, **not** Peter.”

He looked at Derek and tossed the object into the older man’s hand as he was now watching Stiles with rapt attention, “I **did** test it on a few things at the house, just to... Kinda get an idea of it. My basketball is no more, and I tried it on my old cell phones."

"It compacts everything like one of those car cruncher machines, all-” He made a motion with his hands coming together, paired with a squishing sound.

Peter couldn’t help but smile a little smugly when Stiles had defended him, looking pointedly at Allison and just barely fighting against the urge to stick his tongue out at her like a petulant kid.

“So you seriously shouldn’t use it on anyone unless you intend to like... **Kill** them?” Scott asked, moving to plop down in his previous seat, “Kinda glad you didn’t use it on me.”

“I wouldn’t,” Stiles said at once, “Thankfully it was like... Learning two **completely** different spells. There’s no way to switch them up or accidentally do one instead of the other. It’s like airbending. Forcing things to and from are very different.”

He sat down beside Scott and patted his back, “So you were safe, like I said, **harmless**. I probably shouldn’t show off the one I’m working on right now, though, it’d just flop... Or I’d be staring for like an hour with no results.”

Derek nodded and sat, staring at the orb with scrunched up brows as he held it, “It’s cold, and it weighs practically nothing. Does it ever run out?” He asked before handing it over to Isaac.

“Not yet,” Stiles said, watching the exchange, “The first one I made still glows just as strong. Spells only really _end_ when either I want them to, or I die. But that’s situational. Like my gender change, that was a physical change to something that existed. But since I made the orbs from nothing, they’ll last as long as I do.”

Peter ignored the conversation regarding the orb and furrowed his brows in curiosity, “What exactly **are** you working on right now?” He asked, trying to keep things somewhat civil. Just because they couldn’t be together didn’t mean he couldn’t talk to the younger man, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t really like disclosing information until I can do the thing,” Stiles said, smiling and looking back at Peter, “You’ll have to wait with everyone else. Besides, it saves me from completely embarrassing myself if I can’t accomplish it. So far there’s one like that, but I don’t really care about it anyways. Which is probably **why** I can’t do it, seeing as you actually have to be interested in it beforehand.”

“And what was that one?” Allison asked curiously.

“Conjuring ropes,” Stiles shrugged, “I don’t know, I was more excited for the fireball, ropes was just... Boring, and the second I saw the fireball on the page adjacent, it was hard to get into.”

“Even if you can’t quite pull it off, yet, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” Peter said, the corner of his mouth twitching in response to Stiles’s smile, “Unless it physically drains you to do so, practice makes perfect.”

“Even if you do manage to pull it off, how are you gonna test out a **fireball** without catching everything on fire?” Isaac asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“I can already do a fireball, kinda,” Stiles admitted, “Peter’s seen it.”

He put his hand out and created the little orb of fire in his hand, “Of course it’s like holding an open flame... Or magma. I don’t feel the heat, but it would burn anyone else. And I can turn it,” The little ball of fire changed into a pool of water, dropping into his hand before vanishing, “I can make it as big as I want, but I really don’t wanna chance that. Biggest I’ve gone was the size of my jeep, about.”

Scott laughed and shoved at Stiles’s shoulder, “What? Are you insane? Don’t answer that I already know the answer.”

“You should really be more careful, doing something that big... You should’ve at least had one of the pack around in case something went wrong, whether you think you have a reign on things or not,” Peter said, practically all in one breath as he looked at Stiles.

Stiles looked back at Peter pointedly and the room silenced at once, the pack looking between them as he watched the alpha.

Stiles didn’t say anything, either, watching Peter as the room stayed silent and then he shrugged, “I’ve told you this before, people are busy. No one wants to see it happening, as long as they get the end result. I’m the only person in this room willing to stare at my hands doing nothing for four hours at a time.”

Derek watched them for a moment before looking at Stiles, “Yeah, well, if you try something that big again, I wouldn’t mind being there, just in case.”

Peter sighed and ignored the looks he was getting, looking at his nephew and nodding as if to say ‘thank you’. If Derek wouldn’t have volunteered, he would’ve, regardless of how things were between them. It wasn’t like he wanted to see the kid get hurt, he wasn’t that cold-hearted.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good,” Stiles said, looking at Derek then, “You weren’t on board before I could do this stuff, and now that it’s showing results you’re showing interest. So thanks, but no thanks. I can handle it myself.” He wasn’t really a fan of bandwagoners, the only one that had shown as much interest as him, and had the time to waste, would rather be out of the picture, having casual sex with strangers.

Derek frowned, but didn’t argue back, Stiles was right and it wasn’t like he could stop the kid from getting into trouble, he’d been trying for years now to no avail, “Just be careful.”

Peter growled slightly under his breath, frustrated with Stiles’s stubbornness. He knew he’d end up volunteering, whether the younger man wanted him to or not, but he’d need to wait until after the pack meet and catch him before he left.

The looks he was getting was already bad enough, and if he volunteered right then and there, they’d really be able to put two and two together... If they hadn’t already.

“I’m always careful,” Stiles said in his defense, “Besides, the only harm I’ve cause so far is to my wallet, and everyone in the food court of that mall,” He looked at Lydia knowingly, “But I’m working on that, it’s just uh... Well, **technically** it’s probably impossible. So I may never actually use a cell phone again. Great power comes at a price, I guess.”

Peter crossed his arms and leaned back, resting his back against one of the supporting columns in the loft.

He closed his eyes, mostly to make it seem like he wasn’t really listening to whatever else was being discussed, but he heard everything, everyone asking questions pretty much non-stop until Derek told everyone they could go. He made sure to head out before Stiles, and waited next to the younger man’s jeep.

Stiles waved off Scott as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started off across the parking lot, frowning as he got closer to the jeep and he raised his brows at the alpha standing there, “This isn’t a creepy habit you’re adopting, is it? Because, while I like seeing you, it’s a **little** weird to be hanging around my jeep waiting for me,” He said as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

Peter stared at Stiles blankly, ignoring his sass, “I’ll do it,” He offered, shrugging flippantly, “You won’t let Derek and he won’t argue you on the matter, so I’ll do it. And don’t try to tell me you can handle it and you don’t need me to watch you, because I’m doing it regardless. So, call me whenever you want to try it.”

Stiles stopped before he reached his jeep and looked at Peter, “You can’t ‘do it regardless’ if I don’t call you to tell you I’m trying anything. And I **can’t** call you, I don’t really have a cell phone. **And** , to be honest, I can’t handle you at any distance more than what’s current. I’m sorry, but it’s just better from this far away.”

He felt those pains start up in his hands, the tears starting to build and he had to look away, “I don’t hate you, and I’m not angry, but I can’t do this. I can barely _breathe_ while being around you.”

“Stiles,” The alpha said softly, hands itching to just reach out and touch him, “It’s not fair of me, I know and I’m sorry, but you really need someone around when you try bigger things. If you won’t let me, I’ll have to resort to stalking... And that just makes me look bad, or worse, rather. I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to make sure you don’t accidentally kill yourself.”

“ **No** , Peter. I’m sure you know _that_ word,” Stiles said at once, side-stepping the alpha and moving to the jeep to unlock the door, “It’s not ‘fair’ of me, I know, but we’re not friends. I’m sorry, but it’s too early to try reopening fresh wounds.”

“I say we can’t be together and you have to go and say we can’t be friends, or that we’re not?” Peter shook his head and turned to look at Stiles, frowning.

“We **were** friends before all of this, maybe not best friends, but we were... We were friends, Stiles. You can tell me ‘no’ all you want, but I think you know what little that does to stop me. I’m not a good guy, you know this... And stalking isn’t above me. I will if I have to.”

Stiles turned and looked Peter over for a second, “You have a problem with me caring about you, I’d say that’s a pretty big issue. You can’t be _friends_ with someone if you don’t want them **caring** about you,” He opened his door, “And I’m still not giving you permission, stalk all you want, I don’t care. But if I catch you doing it, I’m not promising it’ll end well."

"I won’t _pillowcase_ you,” He started to reach out to the older man for a second before pulling away and climbing into the jeep, “But you’ll wish I had.”

The alpha shook his head again and stared at Stiles for a moment, reaching out to keep him from closing his door, “No I won’t,” He said sadly, “You won’t hurt me, you know you won’t hurt me.”

He let go of the door and pocketed both of his hands again before turning on his heels to walk away. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea, but he’d do what needed to be done in order to make sure Stiles stayed safe.

* * *

Stiles had went to the club the night before, but decided to give it another run, just to have some sense of society. Without really being around Peter, it got a bit lonely again and now that he was attractive, and female, he was actually curious to see if he even had a chance in attracting someone on his **own** again.

After Devon, he’d had a small boost in confidence, and they’d been out a couple of times now, but Stiles wanted to explore himself more, try on more than just one person, for once.

He leaned against the bar, knocking back his first shot of the night, barely there for five minutes when a women took the seat beside him, looking him over and smiling widely.

“Tell me that you’re interested in women,” She said at first, meeting Stiles’s eyes.

Stiles swallowed and smiled back, popping his lips and shrugging, “I’m interested in **you** , if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Good answer,” The woman said and turned to the bartender, “Her next three shots are on me.”

* * *

Peter sat at a table not too far away, enough to be somewhat inconspicuous, but still close enough to keep an eye on Stiles. When he’d told the younger man that he’d resort to stalking, he hadn’t been joking.

It was difficult to endure, but he sipped on his whisky as he watched some woman hit on Stiles, and what stung the most was when Stiles flirted back. He wasn’t naive, he realized that he’d essentially caused it by pushing the younger man away, but it still hurt, regardless.

* * *

“You can’t tell me that you’re actually single though, can you?” The woman tried, leaning in closer to Stiles as the bartender set down his two shots.

“I **am** ,” Stiles confirmed as he knocked them both back, “So what’s your name?”

“Lucy - horrible, isn’t it?” The woman’s face squinched up and she smiled even wider as Stiles laughed, “So why are you single? Bad break up?”

Stiles raised a brow, but shook his head, “No, no bad break up. No relationship to have been involved **in** a break up, which I guess is a plus.”

Lucy nodded and her eyes dropped to Stiles’s lips, “There’s nothing wrong with not having baggage. But you’re gorgeous, I can’t see you **single** all of this time. Is it because you don’t do relationships?”

“No, I do relationships, they just... Don’t really do me, I guess,” Stiles smiled weakly and leaned in closer to the older woman to speak clearer, “Nice to meet you, by the way, I’m Jenna.”

* * *

Peter took another drink of his whisky as he continued to listen in, coughing and sputtering the liquid all over his shirt when Stiles lied about his name.

He wasn’t sure if he was proud or not, though, because there had been many a time he gave someone the wrong name when casual sex was on the table. He also wasn’t sure if he’d end up stopping the younger man, considering he had every right to do what he wanted... Even if Peter didn’t want him to leave the club with someone, he couldn’t stop it.

* * *

“So if you haven’t been in a relationship before, have you been involved with someone? You **do** look young,” Lucy observed, her eyes running back over Stiles’s body again.

“I just _look_ young,” Stiles assured, shrugging, “I’m twenty-five, and no, I haven’t actually been with anyone. I’m just kinda trying out this, seeing if it works,” He motioned around himself and Lucy nodded in understanding.

“Is it, so far?”

Stiles grinned as he held up two fingers to the bartender, “Well, you’re talking to me, so something’s working.” He saw her eyes darken suggestively and he slid one of the shots over to her.

* * *

Peter wrapped his fingers around his glass and stood up from the table to move closer, weaving through the dancing sea of people to push in amongst a crowd at the end of the bar, every single one of them too wasted to realize he wasn’t one of their group.

He’d told himself that he wouldn’t interfere, but at the rate Stiles was knocking back shots, he had a feeling he’d probably have to. Even when he hooked up casually, he’d always been sober. Being intoxicated didn’t usually mix too well with one night stands, a lot could go wrong and he didn’t really like the idea of Stiles being taken advantage of.

* * *

Lucy raised her brows, but smiled wider and took the shot, clacking it with his before downing it and putting it on the bar, “So you’re a virgin, and you’ve never been in a relationship, you’re pretty brave coming to a club on your own.”

She slid from her stool then and moved in close, leaning against the bar and staring into Stiles’s eyes as she wet her lips more suggestively, “How about I fix one of those for you?” Her gaze dropped to his mouth again and she smiled, reaching her hand up and lacing her fingers with his before she cupped his cheek and pressed their lips together.

Stiles felt his face heat, but he kissed back and felt her hands as they moved to his waist, one slipping between his legs suddenly and he gasped, about to pull back, but she did so first, keeping her palm there and rubbing against his jeans as his eyes widened.

“How’s that sound?”

Stiles hadn’t felt intimidated by a **woman** before (besides for, maybe, Lydia; it still wasn't quite like this, though), but he suddenly did, starting to feel uneasy about her hand on him, “Umm... Good?” He guessed, smiling sheepishly, but he didn’t know how to turn her down.

It was now or never, right?

Might as well just get it over and be done with his virginity already.

“Really good, actually,” He lied, starting to back off the stool to get her hand away from him.

* * *

Peter had never been quite so thankful for loud music, dim lighting and alcohol, because it kept everyone else distracted as his claws lengthened without his consent.

He felt a growl reverberating in his chest and he downed the rest of his drink before sitting the glass down and moving. Stiles didn’t want to leave with her, he heard the nervous tic to his heartbeat and the way he lied. If the younger man wasn’t going to turn her down, then he’d gladly do it for him - so much for not stepping in.

The alpha retracted his claws just as he approached them and he reached out to grab Stiles by the wrist gently, glaring at the woman, “She’s not leaving with you, hate to disappoint.”

Stiles stopped and turned to the alpha in surprise, his eyes widening as he saw the look on the man’s face, “Oh my **god** , what the Hell are you doing here?” While he was thankful that Peter had showed up out of fucking nowhere, he was also kind of pissed because it wasn’t any of his business anymore.

Lucy frowned as she looked at the older man and sized him up as she stood upright, “Who’s this, Jenna? Is he your father?”

“I am, actually,” Peter said bluntly as he raised his brows, looking more pointedly at Stiles and making sure the woman heard him as clear as day, “I told you that you were grounded and what do you do? You sneak out, that’s two more weeks, young lady.”

He straightened his back and pulled Stiles closer, wrapping his arm protectively over the younger man's shoulders as he looked at the woman, again, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my daughter home.”

Stiles’s eyes widened as he listened to Peter and he stared up at the older man. He tried to keep himself calm, even though he was furious. He knew that his magic wasn’t meant to be abused, so he didn’t use it. But he didn’t remove his eyes from the alpha’s face, watching him incredulously as he was pulled from the bar.

Lucy raised both of her brows and stepped back, sitting on her stool once more as she watched the two leave.

After Peter stepped outside of the club, he finally let go of Stiles’s wrist and moved away, turning to look at him, “What the fuck were you thinking in there?” He asked, crossing his arms. Stiles had been about to leave with some woman he didn’t even want to leave with... And for what? To lose his virginity?

“The normal thing people think when they’re gonna get laid?” Stiles suggested, furrowing his brows and moving further away from Peter as he glared at the older man, “‘I’m about to get laid’? What the fuck **else** would I have been thinking?”

“I know you didn’t want to leave with her, Stiles!” Peter growled, following the younger man, “ **You** know you didn’t want to leave with her, so don’t even try to lie to me, too. You could’ve just told her 'no', you didn’t have to agree to something you didn’t want to do.”

“What the fuck does it matter to you?” Stiles asked as he looked away from Peter, “It’s none of your business, and it honestly never **was** \- nothing started, so there wasn’t anything to stop. You’ve never had the right to keep me from doing something, whether **I** really wanna do it or not. It’s not your right to follow me and cut in when something happens that you think shouldn’t. I agreed to go with her - it’s my fucking body and I can do what I want with it.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” The alpha asked, glaring at Stiles, “Do you hear the bullshit coming out of your mouth? I didn’t do this for myself, I hadn’t even planned on stopping you from leaving, not until I heard you lie to her about it being ‘good’. I stepped in so you didn’t make a colossal fucking mistake, Stiles.”

He reached out and grabbed the younger man’s chin, jerking it back so he’d have to look at him, “Did you **honestly** want to leave with her? Answer me right now, and I want you to say it slowly.”

“It’s none of your business,” Stiles pulled away from Peter, shoving the alpha back with as much magic as he could to keep him away and Stiles pressed his lips together and shook his head, “Don’t touch me.”

“Hey, is that guy botherin’ you, ma’am?” A guy from back at the entrance of the bar asked and Stiles glanced passed Peter and saw the look of concern on the man’s face.

“No,” He said, smiling sadly before backing from Peter again, “He’s not.”

He moved to leave again, starting off across the road toward his jeep before looking where he was going and the car speeding out of the lot with it’s headlights off didn’t slow as he walked right out in front of it.

Peter tried to move forward, but he felt the magical bindings holding him back. He was sure it looked ridiculous, him standing there straining and not being able to do a thing.

Looking at the headlights heading towards Stiles, he felt panic settle in and he yelled out, “Stiles, move!” It didn’t matter how hard he fought against the spell, he couldn’t so much as lift a finger, “Goddammit, get out of the way!”

Stiles turned as the lights got close, so bright he could barely see, and he shielded his eyes on reflex. He could just make out Peter’s voice from where he was standing and Stiles willed the spell from the alpha’s body, directing it at the car in front of him.

It wasn’t quick enough, though, and the front end of the car hit his right hip and leg hard before he’d had time to stop it. He flew backwards from the force of the spell and his head hit the ground hard.

The back end of the car flew up and it twisted, landing close by Stiles and the glass of the windows shattered over the ground as people at the front of the bar started screaming.

  
[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)  



	9. Chapter 9

“Fuck,” Peter let out a ragged sob and ran as soon as he felt the restraints lift, bending and crouching down just next to Stiles, “Stiles?”

He ignored the screams, picked the younger man’s head up, and pulled a small piece of glass from his cheek, hands shaking, “Damn it, Stiles, wake up!” He yelled.

The alpha looked around and saw the people filing out of the club’s front doors and he reacted instinctively by picking Stiles up and carrying him to his car.

A man moved closer and shouted at him not to move him, but he ignored them and took off. The only thing actually keeping him sane was the heartbeats. Stiles wasn’t dead, he was just unconscious.

Peter maneuvered the younger man into his car as carefully as he could and called Derek, told him to call Alan and make sure he was there and that he was bringing Stiles, then summed up what had happened the best he could.

The drive there for the most part was nerve wracking and he swerved more than once, because he couldn’t stop looking over at the body in his passenger's side seat. It was his fault, his fault Stiles got hurt in the first place.

He parked the car just in front of his nephew’s building and the passenger's side door opened before he came to a complete stop. Peter got out as well and rounded the car, looking at Derek frantically with unshed tears in his eyes, “He used one of his spells to restrain me, I couldn’t stop it.”

Derek pulled Stiles from the car and stood, turning to meet his uncle’s eyes and nodding before looking down at the blood on the front of Stiles’s body, seeming to have come from just his nose. Other than that, nothing seemed broken, and he kicked Peter’s car door closed before moving to the elevator.

“He doesn’t look like the car hit him,” He observed as he walked, “But, if that didn’t... What did?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said at once, running a hand down over his face as he followed his nephew closely, “Whatever happened, he went flying. I wanted to stop it, I told him to move, I screamed at him, but I couldn’t **do** anything. I should’ve been able to do something.” He stared at Stiles as Derek held him, elevator lifting them to his nephew’s loft.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Derek responded, watching the state of his uncle uncomfortably.

He was aware that Peter and Stiles’s relationship had been growing quietly, but he didn’t expect to see the other alpha in such a way, “He’s been getting strong,” He said thoughtfully, looking down at Stiles for a moment and then blinked.

“How fast would you say the car was going?” He knew Peter was a wreck, but they needed to know as much as possible.

“Uh...” Peter closed his eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath, “About thirty or forty miles per hour, fast enough to have done more damage than that,” He said, gesturing to the younger man’s mostly unscathed body.

It meant probably more than it should’ve that Derek was trying in his own way to console him, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been his fault. If they wouldn’t have argued, maybe Stiles wouldn’t have walked out in front of the car.

“A **lot** more damage than this,” Derek said as he frowned even more, “His hip would likely be in pieces, but it feels fine. And he’s so small, it probably would’ve killed him.” He waited for Peter to open the sliding door and walked in, joining Alan and laying Stiles down for the wizened man to look over before he stood back out of the way.

Peter watched Alan, arms crossed as the other man examined Stiles silently. He wouldn’t give either of them a direct answer, so he took to pacing until his feet hurt.

After a while, he sat down on the couch and kept his eyes glued to Stiles, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. And before he knew it, an hour had passed, the suspense literally driving him a little crazy. He just needed to know that the younger man was going to be okay, that was all he needed in order to actually breathe, again.

Alan pulled Stiles’s shirt back down, nodding slowly and removing his gloves before he met Derek’s eyes, “I honestly can’t tell you if he’s going to be okay or not,” He admitted, bowing his head slightly.

“It looks like he stopped the car the best he could, but it **did** impact his body on his hip and his leg. **If** he wakes up, he’ll have trouble walking for a while, until it heals. But most of the damage is from the spell he used to protect himself. It seems as though the car hitting it caused it to backfire. Still, he probably would’ve died if he hadn’t, but if he’d lived, chances are he’d be better off than he is now.”

He looked to Peter sadly, “If he doesn’t wake up by morning, he might not wake up at all.”

Peter stood up from the couch and he knew it was irrational to be so angry with Deaton, but he felt his blood boil, regardless, “That’s all you’ve got, that’s all you can tell me? If he doesn’t wake up by morning, chances are he’ll be stuck in a fucking coma for the rest of his life?”

He’d been in a catatonic state for six years, he wouldn’t wish anything similar on even the worst people, let alone Stiles, “What am I supposed to do with that, Alan?”

Alan watched the alpha lashing out at him and promptly ignored it, “He’s not really in a coma. His spell, the one he used on the car, to stop it from hitting him, is having adverse effects on him. The only one that can stop it is him. It’s **his** spell. So if he doesn’t wake up soon, he’ll be worse than catatonic-”

“He might as well be a vegetable,” Derek said suddenly, watching Stiles’s body in concern, “He’ll be brain dead.”

Alan nodded and looked between them before steeling on Peter again, “Within the next eight hours.”

Peter clenched his jaw as he stared at Alan, glancing at his nephew before looking at the younger man’s fragile-looking body. He moved to him and rested his hands on the table, ignoring everyone else in the room.

“I need you to wake up, Stiles,” The alpha said softly, reaching up to card his fingers through the younger man’s short hair, chin trembling, “I love you, too, you stubborn little shit and I need you to wake up. _Please_.”

Derek watched the sudden display of affection and his eyes widened, but as much as he wanted to stare in shock and observe a side of Peter he never had, he met Alan’s eyes, made a motion with his head to give his uncle some peace and they left the room.

Stiles’s body, though he was out, was still somewhat active, hands wringing weakly, eyelashes fluttering every once in a while as he lay there.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, staring at Stiles’s face as he reached down with his free hand to grab the younger man’s, holding it gently, “I’m sorry for not leaving you alone, and I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

As he stood there, he thought to himself that _this_ is another reason he didn’t do relationships, this is why he didn’t get involved. Because once you care, it’s too late to back out, and then there’s the risk of losing that person, “I wish I could go back in time and fix all of this.”

He leaned down and pressed his lips to Stiles’s forehead and lingered there to mumble against the skin, “Please wake up. I don’t ask or beg for much, but please wake up.”

Derek couldn’t help but to listen in, as hard as he tried not to, an it hurt more than anything he’d been through in a while. He often acted like he didn’t care for Peter, but he **did** , that man was still his uncle - as broken and as twisted as he’d become.

Derek could still remember when he’d been relatively happy, and when he was nothing short of Derek’s friend, the coolest uncle he could’ve imagined. It hurt deeply to see him grow to someone in his pack, and the thought of possibly losing them. None of them would be the same without Stiles, and he might lose his uncle completely.

Stiles didn’t respond beyond his hand clenching weakly around Peter’s, he didn’t wake up either, though, and with every passing hour he became less and less responsive, hands ceasing movements until his fingers were lax in Peter’s, and his mouth dropped open slightly, as if not having the strength to keep itself closed anymore.

Peter felt the fear clench around his heart and lungs like a vice, hurting to the point to where it was becoming difficult to breathe. Hours and the younger man still hadn’t moved. In fact, he was moving less.

The alpha furrowed his brows and looked at how hard the table was, running his hand over it before deciding to pick Stiles up. Derek had a conveniently located bed not even ten feet away, so that’s where he laid him, laying down next to him without hesitation and draping his arm over the younger man protectively.

“I don’t even know if you can hear me, but if you can, I need you to know just how much you do actually mean to me," He mutters almost mindlessly.

"I tried not to care about you, pushed you away and ended up hurting the both of us... All because I was afraid of being inadequate, terrified of not being good enough for **you** , because as loud and annoying, and irritatingly infuriating as you can be, you still deserve the best. I'm not good at this, but I'd try for you. I can’t lose you, Stiles, I can’t.”

* * *

Well into the seventh hour, the light above head went out before being quickly followed by the rest. Though there weren’t any more on, the fact that it was seven AM caused a soft glow to light everything up. Stiles hadn’t moved in the slightest for over an hour, and his breathing had become shallow. His head turned suddenly, forehead pressing to Peter’s cheek as his body moved close, slow and heavy.

He lifted his chin and his eyelashes brushed the soft curve of the alpha’s lip before he opened his eyes and looked up. His vision cleared and he saw Derek standing across the room watching him, his arms crossed as he smiled sadly and nodded to Stiles, lifting his brow as if to say ‘don’t look at me’.

“He loves you,” The alpha said softly and Stiles turned to look at the gently snoring older man curled in the bed with him.

Stiles grinned slowly and reached up, touching Peter’s cheek and turning his face before planting a slow kiss against the corner of the werewolf’s open mouth.

Peter wasn’t really sure when he fell asleep. It had kind of just snuck up on him as he laid there watching Stiles, staying close and waiting for any signs of the younger man waking up. The sleep wasn’t restful and it was like even his subconscious was somewhat alert, waiting for anything.

He felt the soft press of something against his face and stirred slightly, eyelashes fluttering sleepily as he opened his eyes to see Stiles looking at him, “You’re awake,” He said hoarsely, brows furrowing together as he stared into the younger man’s eyes, vision adjusting.

The alpha reached up without hesitation and touched Stiles’s cheek, “Thank fuck,” He breathed, moving forward and pressing their lips together, kissing Stiles with all the pent up frustration and worry he’d experienced over the passed eight hours.

Stiles kissed back almost at once, a bit taken aback by the action, but his body eased into it and his arm wrapped around the older man’s torso to touch his shirt.

He was still in the moment of the crash, somewhat overwhelmed by all of it, and the fight with Peter before, but he was elated to know that the alpha had been concerned enough to be right there by his side when he woke.

He heard the soft footsteps of the other man in the room and then the door opening and closing as Derek, no doubt, decided to give them some alone time.

It was the first kiss between them that had lasted longer than a quick second, and took place while he wasn’t drunk, and he fought to remember everything he could about the feeling of Peter’s warm body against his own - the press of dry lips, the hand on his cheek and Stiles kept his eyes opened to stare at the older man’s face and adore the relief on it.

Peter ignored the quiet footsteps leaving the room and focused on Stiles, brushing his thumb over the younger man’s cheek as he kissed him feverishly.

“How do you feel?” He asked, voice muffled as he kept kissing him, “Are you in any pain?”

The alpha pulled back enough to look at his face, watching him curiously as his chest heaved. He’d never felt so much relief in his life before and it was overwhelming, most of him wanted to just breakdown and cry, but the other half wanted to touch and kiss and shower Stiles with affection.

“I got hit by a car,” Stiles breathed, cheeks flushed from all of the kissing and he looked down finally, laying on his back and lifting his shirt to look at the horrible bruising on his side. It looked more like blood than bruising, dark and vein-y and he pushed his jeans down enough to see that it went on, “Pretty much feels like it sounds. Guess I’m not as good as I thought I was.”

He dropped his head back and turned to look at Peter again, “I’m sorry I was a dick to you, you were protecting me and I was just... Fucking stupid. I’m sorry, thank you.”

“I understand why you were mad at me, I just wish you would’ve understood that I did what I did to protect you last night, before this happened,” Peter frowned as he looked at the bruising, lifting a hand to lay against them gently.

He kissed the younger man again, but lighter this time, lips barely touching as he drew the pain from Stiles’s body, “Do you know how it felt to stand there, completely helpless and watch that happen to you? Not being able to do anything, unable to move to save you... I was terrified.”

Stiles looked down, watching the dark veins appear on the alpha’s arm and he reached down to brush his fingers over them before he met Peter’s eyes again and shook his head, “I’m sorry."

"I was trying so hard not to abuse my powers like that. It’s not your fault or anything, but it just pissed me off that you can use your supernatural strength to just pull me along and I couldn’t use mine, so I just kinda snapped. But it was wrong of me to use it to stop you. Nature has it’s way of balancing things out.”

His fingers moved down to where the tips of Peter’s were, “I guess I learned that lesson.”

“I didn’t think you were going to wake up,” The alpha admitted shakily, smoothing his hand over Stiles’s skin and resting it on the younger man’s hip, “I kept talking to you, though. I don’t even know if you could hear me, but I kept on until I fell asleep.”

He touched the tips of their noses together gently and stared into his eyes before pressing back in again, breathing in sharply as their lips touched, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Because if Stiles wouldn’t have been, he wouldn’t have been, either.

“Me too,” Stiles responded at once, turning back into Peter and kissing him, reaching up to run his hands through the older man’s hair and all but melting against him before he broke the kiss again, “I didn’t hear you, though. It was like I was being suffocated and the only thing I could really hear was just this sharp white noise.”

He smiled, dull nails scratching along Peter’s face as he kissed him again, “Thank you, though, it’s the thought that counts. Nothing makes a guy feel wanted more than waking up with you by me, all passed out from exhaustion.”

Peter smiled finally and huffed out a bated breath, hand moving from Stiles’s hip to up his side, resting on the lower part of his rib cage, “It’s probably for the best you didn’t hear it, anyways.”

He pulled the younger man’s bottom lip between his own and nipped at it before releasing it, “It was pretty boring, a lot of apologies on my part.” Which was a feat in itself, because he rarely ever apologized for anything.

“You apologized for something?” Stiles asked, feigning amazement, “Sorry I missed it, that must’ve been something to see.”

He was actually kind of upset he’d missed it, and though he was curious with what was said, he wasn’t going to press. He understood that Peter wanted to keep his admissions a secret, it only made sense. The guy was probably worried about giving Stiles false hope, so he smiled and raised a brow, changing the subject as smoothly as possible, “Don’t lie, you were hella impressed by my offense cloud water jell-o thing.”

Peter chuckled and pressed kisses all over Stiles’s face, his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin and lips, “I was, impressed doesn’t even cut it.”

He reached up and pressed the tips of his fingers through the younger man’s short hair, “I think I was just bitter because I didn’t get to see it first, acting unimpressed kind of seemed like the route to go. But of course I was, and I think I was in shock kind of. I wanted to hug you and tell you how brilliant you are... but I couldn’t.”

“I knew it,” Stiles grinned even wider, “You’re horrible at hiding that stuff, completely awful.”

He closed his eyes as Peter kissed him, “I was pretty proud of myself, to be honest. I didn’t actually think Scott was gonna hit me, but it’s hard not to... Be nervous of a werewolf coming at you. Now I know that I can kinda, almost, stop a car. I’d probably be better when not caught off guard. And I stopped you from moving completely. All of that from practicing on pillows.”

“Poor pillows,” Peter murmured, grazing his teeth along Stiles’s chin before dipping down to kiss at his throat, “I’m proud of you, too. When I think that there’s nothing else you can do to completely amaze me, you just prove me wrong.” The alpha pressed his lips to the younger man’s pulse point, hand on his ribs moving up further and stopping just beneath Stiles’s left breast.

Stiles tilted his head back as he closed his eyes and shrugged slightly, “My pillows have been through worse. The tricky part was lifting them, floating them across the room, and throwing them back at myself, meanwhile swapping spells and trying to concentrate on casting one that I hadn’t really mastered. I got hit a **lot**.”

“You could’ve used me,” Peter said distractedly, pulling Stiles’s shirt down over his shoulder to kiss there, thumb brushing the underside of the younger man’s bra, “I volunteered, remember? I wanted to help, to watch you.”

“Yeah, well, after everything you said to me at Home Depot, and leaving me there, I figured you didn’t wanna be around me. And I **really** didn’t wanna be around you,” Stiles admitted, blinking slowly as he felt the alpha’s lips on his skin causing chill bumps to rise to the surface and he tried to breathe steadily.

“I’m sorry,” Peter apologized and stilled, lips pressed firmly to the warm skin, “I was an ass and I was pushing you away, trying to make distance. One of the things I apologized for last night. I have good intentions most of the time, but most of what I do is poorly executed. My logic isn't perfect and neither am I."

Stiles pulled back and lifted Peter’s chin to look him in the eyes, “There’s nothing wrong with that,” He reassured the older man, “Take it from a teenager, I know these things. I also know that adults are just as lost and confused. It’s okay to do things wrong and royally fuck up over and over and over again. It’s okay to push people away, to be afraid.”

He wet his lips as he smiled sadly, “There’s nothing wrong with you. But the good intentions are definitely a plus. Most people fuck up because they have **bad** ones.”

Peter stared into Stiles’s eyes and frowned, “It’s like a catch twenty-two... I don’t want to hurt you or disappoint you, because I want to be good enough for you, but I pushed you away and hurt you, regardless. And pushing you away didn’t hurt just you, it hurt me too.”

He kissed the younger man’s chin, “I want to try and make things up to you, make amends and... And just **try**... Try to make you happy.”

Stiles frowned as well, but for other reasons entirely. He didn’t want to lead Peter on and give him false hopes or anything, but he didn’t want to let the alpha go just yet.

He’d been working so hard on trying to get over the older man, to move on with his life - like he had with Lydia. Stiles was actually use to getting over people in that sense, but now here Peter was, ready and apparently willing, and Stiles... Wasn’t.

He wanted to be with Peter, of course he did, he still loved the alpha - he always would - but he didn’t like the thought of Peter waking up in a week, realizing he’d made a terrible mistake by letting Stiles in. It wouldn’t be good for **either** of them.

Going from friends to not friends, to him pissing Stiles off, and then this, it was just-it was too fast, “Hurting people... It happens whether you mean to or not, Peter, that’s just the way life is.”

“That’s true, I know,” Peter nodded minutely, propping himself up more on his elbow and shaking his head, “But I don’t want to hurt you. I know I have and I know I probably will at some point in the future. I know that it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean I want to.”

“I know what you mean,” Stiles said as he stared into Peter’s eyes, letting out a shaky breath before taking another in and trying to not have a fit in front of the alpha. Laying there, staring at the man he loved more than anything, while knowing that Peter wanted to give it a chance as well... It made knowing that he was about to break it off completely hurt even **worse**.

The alpha furrowed his brows as he stared at Stiles, taking in and cataloguing his demeanor, stomach unsettled because it seemed like something was wrong.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, nuzzling the younger man’s lips with his nose before kissing him chastely, “You look like there’s something on the tip of your tongue, like you’re dying to say something. Are you starting to hurt again? I could take some more pain away,” He offered, moving to rest his hand back on Stiles’s bruises again.

Stiles shook his head as he covered the older man’s hand for a moment before pulling it away and putting it closer to Peter’s body than his own, “No, it’s... I mean that hurts horribly, regardless, but... This is worse.”

His eyes filled with tears as he breathed through his mouth and reached up. Stiles touched Peter’s cheek and leaned in to press a last kiss on his lips, dull nails scratching through the werewolf’s stubble before he pulled away and stared the older man in the eyes, “I want us to stay friends.”

It was a lie, he knew it was, but he said it so that Peter understood that he didn’t want to say what he was about to say, “We can’t, not now, maybe never - I don’t know. But I can’t do this with you now.”

Peter kissed back numbly, more intent on the younger man’s words than anything, and he felt a fear similar to what he’d felt last night, spine tingling and gut wrenching. He tried not to overreact and he thought to himself that this must’ve been how Stiles had felt at some point, like someone was shoving their fist into his heart, making it a little difficult to breathe.

The alpha moved back a little further, sitting upright as his eyes watered and he stared at Stiles, “Right.”

He moved to the edge of the bed and sat with his elbows on his knees, “I don’t think this is retribution for what I did to you, because you’re not that kind of person, but it sure as Hell feels like it.”

Seemed fitting that he’d be turned down when he decided to finally open up and be willing to try and make things work.

The alpha looked back over his shoulder at Stiles, “I love you,” He said honestly, voice cracking, “And I know you love me too. So when you realize I’m not going anywhere and you actually want to be with me, I’ll be ready.”

He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck before stalking out of the loft, not bothering to look back at the younger man again.

Stiles sat upright slowly, eyes blurring with tears and he pulled his knees to his chest despite the pain, maybe on purpose, a bit. He wiped the tears from his eyes at first, trying to stop them in hopes that it wouldn’t get out of control, but it did.

He didn’t like hurting Peter and breaking that building sense of reliability that had been growing between them, but he had to make sure that the alpha was **actually** ready.

And, if he wasn’t, then it was already over, and no harm done. No one there to make the mistake of trying to make something work that wouldn’t.

  
[MageStiles](http://magestiles.tumblr.com/) ϟ [Sparklinski](http://sparklinski.tumblr.com/)  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember that it’s possible, and very highly likely, fer this rp/fic to go on hiatus or end randomly at some point (most of ours go that way). But I’m putting up all we have fer now, so that readers can enjoy it.  
>  PLEASE, don’t go on reading thinking that it’ll be completely concluded, the same goes fer the rest of our werks.  
> 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place over a year later.

“I’ve given you too many second chances already,” Stiles said, and it sounded like something he’d hear a woman of a domestically abusive relationship say, but that was almost the case. If not physical, than it was **definitely** emotional.

But it was getting bad, it was at the breaking point, and probably the only reason why it **hadn’t** become physical yet was because he always tried to calm his boyfriend down before it could get out of hand; and because the guy couldn’t fucking touch him. If he tried to raise a hand to Stiles, even once, he’d just put up his little pillow barrier and stop anything from happening.

It wasn’t like the relationship wasn’t doomed from the start, though. They all normally were. Most because the men, or women, wanted sex at some point, and Stiles could never get the nerve up to do it.

Out of respect for Peter’s wishes from the start, Stiles had agreed **not** to agree to something he didn’t want to do. And no matter how heated the making out got, he just... was never in the mood to have sex with some stranger, even though they were _with_ him.

“If I give you any more, after yesterday, I wouldn’t really be respecting myself,” Stiles continued and refused to look away, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I owe it to myself to **not** do that.”

He stood from Devon’s couch and stared down at him, “So, I’m gonna pack my things.”

Devon stood up as well, body towering over Stiles’s and he grimaced angrily, “You’ve just been looking for an excuse to leave. You can blame it on me all you want, but you’re the one who’s been dooming this damn relationship - it’s easier to blame me and leave because you can’t explain yourself.

“You’re all the time hanging out with **Peter** for fuck’s sake, you’re with the guy more than me and I’m your boyfriend... **was** your boyfriend. You’ve never even really been able to tell me how you met, or why you insist on blowing me off for him if he’s just a ‘friend’. All of this is his fault, I should kick his old ass.”

“I dare you to,” Stiles said, raising his brows, “You do that, just make sure I’m nearby to watch it happen.” Devon was right otherwise. He didn’t have an excuse, he couldn’t argue the man because he was **right**. Stiles was getting to that point, seeing the pattern of being around Peter and pushing others away.

“You dare me to?” Devon asked incredulously and followed Stiles as she went down the hall, arms crossed to make himself look bigger, “Is that some kinda joke? He’s your so called friend but you’d wanna see me break his fucking hip or something? Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.”

He moved to block the dresser so that Stiles couldn’t get her things, “You don’t have to go, we can fix this, we just need to get him out of the picture. You know just as well as I do that he’s the issue.”

Stiles backed away and stared up at Devon, “Peter isn’t going anywhere, trust me. And no, it’s not a joke. I dare you to try and touch him, because he would eat you alive. You’re just a boy,” he shook his head, putting his hands on his hips, “Peter might be an issue, but you don’t make it any easier by being such an asshole to him. You’re like an immature brat. Honestly, I don’t **wanna** fix this.”

“I’ve been an asshole to him because he’s been stealing you away from me! You’ve never been mine, Stiles, you’ve always been his!” Devon shouted, unfolding his arms, “You say he’s just a friend and I say it’s bullshit, he’s old enough to be your dad and he’s a guy, friendships like that just don’t fucking happen.”

Stiles frowned even more and put his hand up, “Lower your voice,” he said before glaring at Devon, “Peter was here first, whether you think he’s been ‘stealing’ me or not, it’s not your fucking problem anymore. **I’m not an object**. And, like something that’s not an object, I’m leaving of my own free will. So move out of the way so I can pack.”

“You want your stuff?” Devon asked, smirking viciously as he turned around and pulled the drawers out one by one, grabbing wads of her clothes and stalking down the hallway, “Fine.” He opened the front door and threw it out on the walkway, “Have fun picking it up. You’re gonna regret this, Stiles. I hope you know that.”

Stiles turned his head and closed his eyes to breathe easily, willing his magic to stay calm as he started packing what he could before Devon got back into the room. He hadn’t really anticipated the guy acting **completely** immature towards the break up, though he knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen five year olds more mature than you,” he said as he removed his personal things from the bathroom and packed them in his bag.

“Good for you,” Devon said bitterly, standing in the middle of the living room and clenching his fists at his sides, “Now, hurry up and get your shit and get out. None of this was worth it, anyway... two months, Stiles, two months and you didn’t put out... at all, and I don’t date prudes.”

“Yeah, and I don’t date brainless dick wads,” Stiles responded as he finished packing and walked out into the livingroom to get his things from there, “And I wouldn’t have put out for you, not in a million years. I’d kinda like my first time to be with a guy that doesn’t fall asleep trying to get me off, and who has a reasonably sized dick. **I** had a bigger dick than you,” he snorted, “I kinda still do, really.” Stiles walked past Devon, moving to his jeep to put his bag away before gathering his clothes from the lawn.

The words Stiles said confused Devon, but he moved to stand at his door anyway, fuming - face turning red as he glared at her, watching her pick up her things, “Wish you would’ve told me how stuck up you were before we got into this, maybe I wouldn’t have wasted so much time on your worthless ass.”

He chuckled and grabbed his dick through the denim of his jeans, “And don’t pretend you’re not gonna miss me.”

Stiles paused and stared at Devon for a moment, blinking before nodding, “I’m not gonna miss you. I wish I could say differently, but after that display of fine American immaturity that reminds me of a few friends from high school, it only really nails in the coffin how much I’m **not** going to miss you.”

He carried his things back to the jeep and climbed in, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway before Devon could say or do anything more.

* * *

Peter had come to terms that Stiles was officially dating, trying to broaden his horizons or whatever. It had definitely taken a while, but he’d become somewhat okay with it at some point, resorting to being supportive, being a friend to Stiles.

It wasn’t easy to watch, because he was still in love with him, but he endured it... for Stiles. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t elated every time the younger man told him about **another** failed relationship, though.

The alpha sat the can of coke down in front of Stiles on the table and took the seat next to him, grabbing the edge of his book and pulling it closer to look at it, observing what spell he was currently working on, “You know, my offer still stands,” he said, turning his head to look at Stiles and smiling, “I’d be more than happy to break his wrists for throwing your things.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles responded, smiling back and setting the book more between them, “It was pretty fucking juvenile, though. I’m horrible at relationships and finding someone with a damn brain. Every time it’s like some questionably intelligent person, and then I just... drive it into the ground. Besides, it’s not like he touched me. He just acted like a dick. You should’ve heard him, ‘it’s Peter’s fault’, ‘I should kick that old guy’s ass’.”

Peter chuckled and sighed, “I’d **really** like to see him try. I could probably make the nitwit shit his pants without even laying a hand on him.” He rested his elbow on the table and glanced at the younger man, again, “And it’s not my fault he can’t keep a gem like you, but I don’t mind taking the blame.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he **did** try to do something, honestly - for a guy who mouthed off about never wanting to be with me anyway, he was pretty pissy about the whole break up,” Stiles shook his head and let out a tight breath, “Alright, enough about Devon, more about magic. I don’t want the guy to ruin the **rest** of my day.”

“As if he could ruin it, anyway, you’re in my presence now,” Peter grinned somewhat smugly and leaned back in his chair, nodding towards the book, “Why didn’t you pillow case compact that little shit? God what I would’ve given to have seen it, I never did like him.”

“What is it with you and homicide?” Stiles asked rhetorically, smiling wider, “Nah, he didn’t really piss me off enough to warrant death. If he’d **touched** me, maybe, but he didn’t.

“Anyway, I’m thinking... there’s this spell in the back I really wanna try, which is reshaping metal. You don’t mind me manipulating your kitchenware, do you?”

“I don’t mind, but you’re not getting your fingers on my good silver,” Peter smirked and pushed up out of his chair, sauntering into the kitchen to grab some of his older silverware, returning and putting it down on the table, “You’re lucky I love you and care about your progress, otherwise this wouldn’t be happening.”

Stiles grinned wide and sat up, rubbing his hands together as he bit his bottom lip, “All I’m supposed to do is change it to look like something else. If it goes correctly, you’ll have two forks instead of a spoon **and** a fork.”

He reached out, pulling one of each forward and pushing the book away as he started to clear his mind, “Shouldn’t destroy anything.”

“Mhm,” Peter hummed, crossing his arms and watching Stiles intently, “What would be really convenient, would be if you could duplicate things. I’d never have to buy new silverware again. Dear lord, the fun you could have with a spell like that.”

“It’s kinda the next up from this,” Stiles admitted, glancing at Peter, “It’s actually not difficult, when you have something to build off of. It’s making things out of nowhere that’s hard. Replicating is the easy part.”

He looked back at the spoon and fork and stared intently at them. Most of his spell work took hours to have results, but this was instant; first there were one of each and then, within the blink of an eye, the spoon changed. Even **Stiles** gasped when it changed so fast, lips parting as he startled himself.

Peter jerked slightly in his seat, eyes wide and he leaned forward, smiling and looking at the younger man, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t it usually take you longer than that? Even so, you very rarely get it right on the first try...” he narrowed his brows speculatively at the younger man, “This **is** your first try... right?”

“Hell yeah, it’s my first try,” Stiles said breathlessly as he reached out and grabbed the second fork, turning it over in his hand before looking at Peter in amazement, “I can’t believe that just happened. Talk about a first.” He was still kind of speechless, even though he was talking, and his grin was so wide it was hurting.

“I can’t believe it happened either,” the alpha admitted, resting his hand on the back of Stiles’s neck and squeezing slightly, “Although I shouldn’t be surprised, you’ve gotten so much better since you first started. It’s amazing, really.” And he was particularly glad that he could say that he got to watch the younger man grow and learn along the way.

“Yeah well, I wasn’t expecting it to take within mere seconds of trying,” Stiles chuckled and rolled his eyes at the older man as he looked at the spoon, changing it back and forth, over and over again before he put it down, turning and all but launching himself against Peter as he wrapped his arms around the alpha. 

Peter watched Stiles change the silverware back and forth, slightly stunned with his mouth parted and he grunted when the younger man flung himself at him, “Whoa, okay,” he said, immediately wrapping his arms around Stiles.

He was slightly taken aback, because they didn’t hug - they shared smaller affections from time to time, like friends normally do, but never hugs. He wasn’t about to turn it down, though.

The alpha squeezed Stiles closer and nuzzled his face against the younger man’s neck, “I’m so proud of you, I don’t think I say that enough.”

Peter was right, he **didn’t** say it often, even though they both knew he was proud, it was still good to hear the words every once in a while. Stiles grinned wider, “Thank you,” he said, holding Peter for longer than was probably normal, but he couldn’t help it, he missed that closeness.

Stiles pulled back and sat down again, “So I’m not sure what to do now, exactly, considering that was supposed to take all night.”

Peter cleared his throat and tried not to whine in protest as Stiles pulled away, running a palm down his stomach to flatten out his shirt, tugging at the hem idly, “I’m not so sure, either, unless you’re in the mood for some Netflix and popcorn,” he shrugged, smiling, “Both of which I can provide.”

“That actually sounds really good, I don’t think I’ve had popcorn in like... a week or something,” Stiles said as he watched Peter, feeling somewhat off now that he’d pulled away, but he didn’t say anything, just turned back to the silverware and tested out changing the first fork into a spoon as well and it took at once before he changed them both into knives, and then back again.

“It honestly shouldn’t be so easy,” he murmured to himself, flipping through the book to find the spell that duplicated things.

“Don’t knock it,” Peter said, standing up from his chair once again, “Maybe it was just circumstantial... but then again, nothing is really different this time, aside from your relationship status.” He cupped the back of Stiles’s head before moving to the kitchen to make popcorn, “Maybe Devon the dick-wad was holding you back, seems plausible. Or maybe he was just throwing off your mojo, who knows.”

“I don’t know about that,” Stiles responded as he smiled at Peter’s comments. He knew that the alpha had been jealous, he always was, and Stiles understood that. He didn’t like playing the field when he knew that he wanted Peter, and Peter wanted him, but he had to be sure that the older man was serious, and he needed to be sure of himself, just as well.

“Uh,” he sat upright, eyes widening before he moved to Peter and held out the two spoons, “So...”

“So...” Peter repeated, stilling after he grabbed a bag of popcorn from the cabinet to snag the spoons from the younger man’s hand. He looked at them and then to Stiles, taking in his wide eyes and he narrowed his own, “I feel like I’m missing something...” he looked at the spoons again and shrugged, “What?”

Stiles sighed and picked up one of them, holding out his hands before duplicating it again and then giving them **both** back to Peter, and now there were three.

He pointed to a little cut, a break in the metal down by the back end of the spoon and then pointed it out on each of them, “You get it now?”

Peter’s eyes widened as well and he laughed, turning the silverware over in his hand before meeting Stiles’s eyes, “That’s incredible.” He offered the spoons back to the younger man, smiling so wide his face hurt, “I wasn’t kidding about never buying silverware again, I think you should try one more time just to make sure you’ve got it down pat.”

Stiles smirked and reached past Peter, taking the bag of popcorn before making two of them and handing one over, “I can’t manipulate it too much, there **is** a balance on the planet, and the last thing it wants is someone manipulating things for selfish gain, as long as you don’t plan on selling them, I’ll make you silverware.”

Peter chuckled again and sat the silverware down on the counter before pulling Stiles back in for another hug, kissing the top of the younger man’s head as a way to say how proud he was. He pulled back and put the first bag into the microwave to be popped, looking at the timer as he shook his head and smiled, “You’re something else, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have to replace your silverware, given time,” Stiles joked, cheeks flushing as his skin practically burned where Peter had kissed him, “I totally just duplicated an old broken spoon, not once, but **twice** , and then a bag of popcorn. I’m not sure where my priorities lie with that. All I know is I’m duplicating my phone, uh... when I get one, again.”

“You need one,” Peter said, crossing his arms and looking at Stiles as he waited on the popcorn, “Because as much as I like you randomly showing up without any forewarning at all, it’d be nice to have some other means of communication.” He almost wanted to laugh, because there had actually been a point in time where he hated when Stiles just showed up and barged in unannounced.

“I haven’t actually broken anything in months, not since I broke up with what’s her red head... Jessica,” Stiles mused, sitting back against the counter, “I came close today though, but it’s getting easier to keep contained. Considering I didn’t throw that asshole out of the way when he shouted at me, I’d say that’s improvement.”

The microwave beeped and before opening the door, Peter turned to look at Stiles, “He shouted at you?” he asked, jaw clenching, “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Peter,” Stiles winced because he’d gotten a bit careless with revealing things. He knew that the alpha could get **very** protective of him, “It wasn’t really anything much, he just shouted in my face, it’s no big. As I recall, **you’ve** shouted in my face, too.”

Peter sighed and opened the microwave door, pulling the first bag out and moving to get a big bowl from the cabinet to pour it in, “Fair’s fair I suppose...” he dumped the popcorn into the bowl and looked up at the younger man seriously, “I’ll rip his throat out first, and then I’ll do my own.” The alpha smiled and moved to hand the popcorn to Stiles, grabbing the other unpopped bag and putting it in the microwave.

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes and smiling, “But I can give you **something** to sate those homicidal wolf-y needs of yours,” he put a piece of popcorn in his mouth, letting it dissolve slowly in his saliva before swallowing it whole.

“If he does _worse_ , and by ‘worse’ I mean if he doesn’t leave me alone after today - I don’t care what he does, but I made it very clear it was over. **But** , if he does anything else, I’ll let you take care of it. Sound like a done deal?”

Peter looked at Stiles quickly and smiled wide, a mischievous glint to his eyes, “ _Deal_ ,” he agreed, putting a hand to his chest as he sighed, “You **do** love me, enabling the evil within.” He chuckled and pulled the second bag of popcorn out of the microwave, opening it and dumping it in with the rest, “Alright, come on. I think they put _The Avengers_ on Netflix and I haven’t seen it yet.”

“You haven’t seen it yet?” Stiles asked, eyes widening, “Shame, you should’ve seen it in theaters, it was orgasmic,” he ate another piece of popcorn and led the way into the livingroom, taking his usual seat and setting the bowl on the couch between them once Peter was seated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sry about the late update fer this fic, I had been initially holding off updating because me and my now former partner were werking on this and I was waiting fer her to become interested in it again.  
> Now I know that that's never going to happen. So I'm taking it up on my own. We had already written together both this chapter and most of the next, and then after that I'll try to continue it and complete it on my own.  
> Hopefully you guys are still interested.
> 
> -Cammerel


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING: This chapter contains graphic imagery and situations, please read the tags if yer concerned of possible triggers.

Stiles, in order to get some air from the men in his life, started steadily dating a girl name Marion, they’d only been talking for the past few days, having met at Best Buy - once he finally went out to buy a new cell phone and **finally** replace his Xbox. She wasn’t like most women he’d dated, and though he was actually getting worried about hurting her, or stringing her along, they both agreed to remain casual and open, opting to get to know one another and taking it slow instead.

He leaned against the bar as he paid for their drinks before moving to the small booth, taking his seat across from her and setting their drinks down, “I think we’ve been playing it safe the past few days, right? Are you gonna tell me, now, which gaming platform is your favorite? Or are we gonna keep the serious debates for later?”

“Of all time, or are we talking current?” Marion asked, crossing her arms on the table and leaning in closer as she smiled at Stiles, “I mean, if I tell you... It could be a deal breaker, ya know?” she giggled and licked her lips, sighing, “Of all time I’d have to go with... _Sega_ ,” she winced, “But if I had to choose one of the newer platforms it’d be PS3.”

Stiles winced in turn, “Oh, pity, I guess we can never be... it was all hopeless from the start, we’re sworn enemies,” he chuckled and sipped his beer for a moment before responding, “ _SNES_ , for old school, because nothing beats Chrono Trigger, **nothing**. And Xbox, I can’t help it. Doomed from the start, it would seem.”

“Oh come on,” Marion said, smiling and tilting her head as she looked at Stiles, “Opposites attract, don’t swear me off just yet.” She grabbed her drink and took a sip, winking at Stiles from atop her glass.

“So I guess this explains a lot. You didn’t wanna be with me ‘cause I ain’t got a pussy.”

Stiles raised a brow and turned to look up at Devon, he was thrown off for a second, but then glared, “Oh, yeah, that must’ve been it,” he glanced at Marion, trying to convey a sense of apology, “It couldn’t have had **anything** to do with your horrible attitude and lack of maturity. Because, as we can see, you’ve handled the break up **really** well.”

He turned to Marion completely then, “I’m sorry, I dated a Cro-Magnon, he’s really not supposed to be out late at night because he... he has a tendency to bark at the headlights of cars.”

Devon snorted incredulously and rolled his eyes before leaning down on the table, body buzzing with alcohol as he got in the other woman’s face, “I wouldn’t bother with her if I were you, she never puts out or spends any time with you. She’d rather blow you off and go spend time with her BFF, Peter.” 

Marion sat up straighter, narrowing her eyes and glaring at the guy, “And maybe none of that matters quite as much as you’re making it out to. Not all men and women are controlling fucking pigs like you.”

“How about you leave my fucking date alone and go piss off someone else?” Stiles suggested, raising his brows as he eyed Devon tentatively, “Clearly she’s gotten the memo that you’re a jealous freak, who acts like he’s five years old when he doesn’t get his way, so why don’t you just go home.”

Devon turned his head to look at Stiles and moved closer, “How about you come home with me,” he suggested, close enough to breathe in her face, “Come on, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing and there won’t be no more of this bisexual bullshit. I'll turn you into a Devon-sexual, you won't want nobody else.”

He took it upon himself to slide into the booth next to Stiles, reaching up to grab her left breast, “God, I missed these.”

Stiles pushed Devon’s hand from his chest, eyes widening as he moved back and put his arm out to keep the larger man away, “You need to go, Devon,” he said, his voice as firm as he could muster as he tried to will his magic back. He couldn’t use it, even if he had to, he knew that. It was wrong. And it’d probably break everything in the building, but he was really starting to feel intimidated, and it was getting harder to keep in, “I mean it.”

Marion got up from her side of the booth and moved around it, leaning in to grab the guy by the shirt to try and pull him away from Stiles, “You’re a real piece of work.” 

Devon lashed out, swinging his arm and backhanding the woman before turning his attention back on Stiles, “Don’t make me do that to you, just stop being such a stingy bitch and give me a little piece.” He wet his lips and reached down between Stiles’s legs, smiling as he reached up under her skirt and grabbed her by the cunt, “I bet you’re so fucking tight.”

“More like ‘tired’,” Stiles stressed the word, trying to push Devon’s hand away as his heart started racing, “Don’t-” he looked up at the light as some of them started flickering and he closed his eyes to try and calm himself, but he was freaking out.

He lifted both hands and pushed against the larger man’s chest, “Stop.”

“I’ll stop when you let me taste that sweet pussy,” Devon said darkly, words beginning to slur and he pulled her panties aside somewhat, pushing his fingers between her folds, “You never did let me, I could make you feel so good if you’d just let me.”

He pressed against her clit harshly, smiling to himself, “I know you’re a virgin, Stiles, just let me pop that cherry.”

“No, stop,” Stiles’s eyes widened and he tried to close his legs, reaching back and punching Devon square in the nose to try and get him to back off. He was shaking now, tears building in his eyes as he shifted and started to stand to try and get over the table or something.

Devon grunted in pain and reached up to grab his nose, smearing the blood away with the back of his hand, “You fucking bitch.”

He grabbed Stiles by the back of the skirt before she could get away and shoved her skirt up, pulling her panties down before she could stop him. Chuckling, he reached between her legs and grabbed her by the hip with his other hand to stop her from moving as he shoved two fingers into her heat, groaning aloud as he felt her hymen ripping around his fingers, “Fuck, baby, you are tight.”

“Ah, no! Stop,” Stiles gasped, shutting his eyes as he felt the tears on his cheeks and he reached back to pull his cell phone from his pocket as his chest heaved.

He looked around, the music too loud in the room to really get any attention, and he’d positioned them in one of the darker corners of the club for privacy. But as the fingers pressed inside of him, and he tried to close his legs again or move away, the lights in the room started to bust, “Fuck, no,” he breathed, closing his eyelids once more, but his heart beating was so loud that he couldn’t think. Devon’s hand was holding him in place so that he couldn’t move and he felt the cell phone in his fingers as it shuttered and his screen cracked.

“Come on, Stiles, just relax and it’ll feel good,” Devon ignored the flickering lights and pulled Stiles back closer to him. He settled her on his lap and wrapped one arm around her chest to keep her arms from moving as he reached around once more and shoved his fingers back inside, bloody from where her hymen had torn.

Marion had stalked off after the guy hit her to grab one of the bouncers, a man twice the size of Devon. She ushered him back to the table where they were and gasped when she saw what was going on.

Stiles met the bouncer’s eyes as the large behemoth rushed past Marion and shoved the table from it’s spot before grabbing Devon’s hand and pulling it from Stiles’s chest. He had only a second to breathe before he was picked up like he was some goddamn doll, panties dropping from his feet the moment he was lifted. The man covered him at once and set him on the ground before grabbing Devon up and twisting his arm back behind him.

“How about you and me go for a walk, young man,” the bouncer said, nodding to Stiles and Marion as he shoved Devon from the club.

Stiles felt his bottom lip tremble as he turned back to the table, bent down carefully and picked up his panties before stuffing them in his pocket. His body was trembling still, but he’d gotten a hold back on his magic, not that he’d wanted to. He could’ve stopped Devon, easily, and now he wasn’t so sure if he was proud of himself for not using his power to defend himself from a human.

Marion watched with wide eyes as the bouncer took Devon away before moving to Stiles, tentatively approaching her, “I’m so sorry, I tried to find someone as quickly as I could.” She touched Stiles’s forearm and ducked her head slightly to look her in the eyes, “Do you wanna go home? I can drive you... or would you rather go to the hospital?”

“Neither, I’m okay,” Stiles said softly.

He couldn’t go to the hospital, that wasn’t an option. He looked at Marion and smiled sadly, “Thank you, you found **someone** , that’s what matters. You saved me from a lot worse. But I really think I need to be alone right now.

“I’ll call you, though,” he lifted his phone to show her the crack in it, “Once I get this fixed, and see a friend about a promise. I’m sorry about him, he’s my ex for a reason.” Stiles moved and touched Marion’s cheek, “Do you need anything before I go?”

Marion returned Stiles’s smile and reached up to touch her hand as she shook her head, “Just to know that you’ll be okay.” They hadn’t known one another for long, but nobody deserved what she witnessed Devon doing to her, “Drive carefully, Stiles.”

“I will, thanks,” Stiles leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, over where Devon had hit her, and he waved before leaving. No, he was fine, he was going to be okay, it was Devon he **wasn’t** worried about. Devon was the one **not** going to be okay by the end of the night.

Stiles walked out of the club, out to his jeep and he climbed into it, wincing in pain as he breathed shakily and he looked down at his legs, lifting his skirt enough and nearly sobbing as he saw the smear of blood on the insides of his thighs. It was the opposite of how Peter had made him feel, and considering one had happened when he was _drunk_... he didn’t know what that said about Devon, and the kind of person he was.

He looked at the blood on the tips of his fingers before jamming the keys into the ignition and starting the jeep. The drive to Peter’s place was short and quiet, and it took everything he had not to cry his eyes out, his lower half aching from the intrusion and he didn’t realize how **bad** it would hurt afterwards.

Stiles didn’t normally come over this late, but he figured that Peter wouldn’t care. He parked the jeep, opening the door and turning his stomach onto the seat before sliding out backwards. He let out a heavy breath as his feet touched the pavement and he shut the door, all but limping to Peter’s apartment and frowning when he tried the knob, but it was locked. Of course - middle of the night, sleeping werewolf - locking up seems like a smart thing to do.

So for once in his entire life, Stiles reached out and rang the doorbell.

Peter lifted his head from his pillow and blinked when the sound of his doorbell brought him out of slumber, room pitch black and his eyes slowly adjusted. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing a hand over his face as he pushed up to his feet.

The alpha stalked to the door in nothing but his boxers, still half asleep and curious as to who would even come to see him this time of night. He unlocked the door and pulled it open, body going somewhat tense when his eyes met Stiles’s, “Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely, eyes raking down over Stiles’s body and he felt his stomach clench sickly as he noticed a dribble of blood trailing down the younger man’s thigh.

“Stiles, what happened?” he reached out and wrapped his arm around him, pulling him into the apartment before closing the door.

Stiles just turned into Peter’s sleep-heated body and wrapped his arms around the man’s warm waist as the sobs started in. He couldn’t actually **say** it, he couldn’t. He just shook his head as he cried and muttered out, “Devon,” as his lips trembled and he started crying harder.

He knew that going to the alpha was worse than using his own magic to keep Devon away - it was still a supernatural force getting involved - but he had promised Peter. And one thing all of his reading had told him, more than anything else, was the strength of keeping to those. It was Peter’s job to take care of Devon, like Stiles had promised him, and he hadn’t used his own magic in a situation that was human, so it was about as balanced as the world could get.

Peter wrapped his arms around Stiles and held him close as the anger began building, kissing the top of the younger man’s head, “Shh, I’ll take care of it, but let me take care of you first, okay?” Even though he wanted to go right then and there and snap the asshole’s spine, getting Stiles situated and comfortable was a more important priority.

“I’ll get you some of my old clothes and you can take a shower while I’m gone,” he murmured, reaching up to cradle the back of Stiles’s head, “That sound good?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded at once, his hands dropping from Peter’s sides as he lifted one hand to wipe his cheeks and he reveled in the feeling of the older man’s palm against his hair.

There were so many things inside of him that wanted to egg Peter on, to promote, to encourage, but he resisted. As much as he wanted to say ‘make him regret it’, or something of the like, it wasn’t right of him to push Peter. The alpha would do what **he** felt was just, and Stiles was going to be okay with that.

“Okay,” Peter said, kissing Stiles’s forehead before grabbing his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

He let go and looked at Stiles sadly before moving to his dresser, grabbing one of his long-sleeved shirts, a pair of black sweat pants with a draw string and a pair of old boxers that were too small for him now. The alpha moved back to the younger man and put the clothes in his hands before grabbing his shirt off of the night stand, pulling it on over his head.

Peter wanted to ask what happened, but with the blood and Stiles as distraught as he was, he figured it didn’t exactly matter. He’d been itching to do something, to kill someone, and Stiles was giving him the go-ahead.

The alpha pulled his jeans up from the floor and slid them on, buttoning them and zipping the fly as he moved back to Stiles, “Will you be okay until I get back?”

“Yeah, of course,” Stiles smiled weakly, watching the alpha and nodding shakily, “I’m upset, not five.” It was a weak joke, and probably a bad one, and it made him more sad than anything, but he moved in and hugged Peter again, breathing the older man in for a moment before pulling away.

“Just... don’t...” he fought with words, not really knowing what was right to say and he met Peter’s eyes, “Don’t get caught. Come back, that’s all I ask.”

Peter nodded and reached up to touch Stiles’s cheek, “Of course,” he smiled then, smoothing his thumb across his cheek, “It’s me we’re talking about, Stiles... stealth is my middle name, don’t worry.”

He moved past the younger man and walked back out into the living room, grabbing his shoes and sitting down on the couch to put them on, “I just want to clear one thing up before I leave,” he said, brows furrowed, “I know you don’t want to tell me much and that’s fine, sincerely, but I need to know if there are any limitations as to what you’re allowing me to do.”

Stiles had followed after him, leaning against the hallway wall and he shook his head, “The only reason he isn’t the size of a pillow case right now is because I promised I’d let you take care of it, and because I really tried not to use magic to stop him,” Stiles admitted honestly.

“I did break a few things though, including my cell phone. He’s yours,” he tried to sound as neutral and passive as he could, but Peter could no doubt tell that Stiles was just as furious as **he** was.

“Very well,” Peter said, standing up and moving to grab his keys from the stand before looking back at Stiles, “I won’t be gone long, two hours at the most, but lock the door behind me, okay?” he lingered for a moment and stared at the younger man, trying to remain calm in front of him and he swallowed thickly, “The medicine cabinet is fully stocked, if you need anything for the pain.”

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles wet his lips as he watched Peter and took a breath to calm himself, “Thank you, Peter. I’ll be here.” He could tell that Peter was furious, even though he was managing to come off collected and in control.  


Stiles couldn’t even bring himself to feel sorry for Devon; the guy was going to get what he deserved. He’d forced himself on Stiles, gotten away with enough because of his physical advantage, and now he was going to know what that was like.

“I love you.”

His voice was soft and small, and weak, shaky - and though he knew Peter was plenty aware, he just felt like it had to be said.

Peter grabbed the door knob, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a fond smirk, “I love you, too.”

He opened the door and left, dropping the calm facade and his chest started heaving, eyes beaming red as he stalked out of his apartment building. Thankfully, he didn’t really have to ask where Devon lived, because he’d stalked the douchebag enough to know. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he did it regardless, even if only to make sure that Stiles wasn’t with a complete nutjob. _Ironic how that turned out_.

Stiles locked the front door and went to the bathroom to shower.

He stripped carefully, frowning at the bruising on his waist and he turned on the water before slipping his skirt down his thighs. He stepped under the spray of water and sat down slowly, cleaning the blood from his legs, the insides of them, and carefully pressing his hands inward, wiping up what he could and dropping his head as he stilled and just let the water run over his body.

Finally he turned to his bathing essentials and started using them. He kept more at Peter’s house than he kept at Devon’s, save the clothes (because he never slept over), but he showered here often enough to have things here, and he kept various _other_ personal things here as well.

He finally finished up and climbed from the floor of the tub, turning the water off and drying himself down before dressing into Peter’s change of clothes. Once he was dressed, he walked into the alpha’s room, climbed into his bed, and laid down, pulling the covers over himself and turning into the pillow to breathe Peter’s scent in as he waited.

* * *

An hour and forty-five minutes later Peter let himself into the apartment, reveling in the distant screams echoing in his ears. Devon had been so surprised to see him and thankfully heavily intoxicated, because that made everything so much easier on the alpha.

Part of him wished that he could’ve taken a picture of the asshole’s face just as he sliced his dick off with one of his claws to show Stiles, but he knew the younger man probably wouldn’t share the same enthusiasm over something of that nature. The screams, though, those were like music to his ears.

Leaving and knowing Devon would bleed out before anyone found him gave him a special kind of joy, knowing the guy would suffer not only from castration, but from broken ankles and broken hands as well.

Peter locked the door and kicked his shoes off before moving through his apartment, entire right arm covered in drying blood, spatters of it on his shirt and jeans, “Stiles?” he called out softly, walking into the bedroom and smiling when he saw the younger man in his bed, “You asleep?”

Stiles turned, breathing in deeply and humming in response, “Hmm?” he asked, mostly through his nose as he curled around Peter’s pillow and blanket. He opened his eyes and looked at Peter, gasping when he saw the blood covering the alpha’s arm and he didn’t bother asking who’s it was; he knew better.

Stiles blinked and looked up to the older man’s face before smiling slightly, “Is he dead?”

Peter stood by the door and returned Stiles’s smile with one of his own, a little wider and a lot more devious, “If he’s not right this second, he will be very soon.” He shrugged, grimacing as he took his shirt off, “I made sure that he suffered... you didn’t ask me to, but I could see it on your face.”

The alpha took the fabric and wiped at the blood the best he could, balling the shirt up in his hand and scrubbing at it, “I need a shower, even his blood stinks.”

Stiles laid back down slowly, eyes moving over Peter’s naked torso, “I’m glad he suffered, monsters like that deserve what they get,” he curled around the pillow even more, keeping it close as he shifted, “You shower, you come back in here, you join me, yeah? I’ll keep the bed warm for you.”

He wasn’t sure what it said about the fact that Peter **wasn’t** the monster, and Devon was. But he was glad he let the alpha do what he did, Peter needed it. It was a bit twisted, but he was used to that darkness and, all things considered, human men had likely done things like that to protect their mates. It was the circle of life, pretty much.

Peter smiled wider and nodded as he moved to the dresser to grab a clean pair of boxers, “Sounds good.” He turned to look at Stiles once more, “Don’t fall asleep on me, I won’t be long,” he said before leaving the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take a while, as I'll need to write it myself. So I apologize in advance fer however long it may take.  
> As some of you know, I've been having back problems - and now I've also just gotten sick within the past few days. The back pain is getting better, so only time will tell, rly.  
> Ty all fer understanding (those of you that read this, at least).
> 
> -Cammerel


	12. Chapter 12

The alpha showered quickly, only taking the time to stare at the blood rolling off of him, puddling at his feet before swirling down the drain. Watching it was a little more calming than it should have been, but it was, regardless. He turned the water off and climbed out, drying himself and slipping his boxers on before dropping his dirty clothes in the hamper and turning out the bathroom light.

Peter walked back into the bedroom and grabbed his deodorant from the night stand, rolling some on before putting the cap back in place and moving to join Stiles in the bed.

Stiles waited until he heard Peter exit the bathroom and he moved back from his spot so that Peter could lay down. The moment the alpha was in place, Stiles settled in against him, curling in close to the older man’s body as he pushed the pillow from his stomach and laid his chin on Peter’s chest to stare him in the eyes.

“He didn’t rape me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I mean, it could probably be considered rape, but the law definitely wouldn’t. He would’ve, though, if Marion hadn’t gotten one of the bouncers to stop him.”

Peter reached up to play with Stiles’s hair as he looked him in the eyes, “Are you ever going to tell me what he **did** do?” the alpha asked softly, furrowing his brows slightly, “And who’s Marion?” If he had to guess, he’d probably bet that Marion was Stiles’s fling of the week, or month... depending on how long it lasted.

“Kind of a friend? I mean, I was a **bit** interested before, but I don’t think I am now,” Stiles reached his arm up to rest his hand on the older man’s chest, touching his skin, “Not because she’s not attractive or anything, but she’s a really good person, and I’d rather not treat her like I have the last eight people. She’s nice, I met her when I was replacing my Xbox. We agreed to keep it casual, initially, I’m glad I did.”

He grew silent then, putting his thoughts together for a moment, “We were having a drink, talking pretty nerdy things, when he just showed up out of nowhere and started being an ass. He grabbed my chest, sat down in the booth with me and started forcing his hand under my skirt. Marion tried to stop him and he hit her.

“I tried to push him back, kept warning him not to, but he wouldn’t stop, he started forcing his fingers past my underwear so I clocked him in the nose. When I tried to get up, he grabbed my waist and pushed my skirt up, pushed his fingers inside me and tore my hymen - he just wouldn’t fucking **stop**.”

Stiles feels Peter tense a little under him and he shakes his head, “That’s pretty much when my magic started slipping, cracked my cell phone and a few lights in the club, as far as I know. About then the bouncer came up and stopped him.”

“I’d definitely classify that as rape,” Peter said, reaching up with his free hand to cover Stiles’s, “Not only were his advances unwanted, but you actually told him not to.”

He sighed and grabbed the younger man’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss Stiles’s palm before settling it back on his chest, “I wish I would have made him suffer a little more, just a little. I can’t believe he did that to you and that’s coming from me of all people. I don’t exactly have the cleanest slate, but I’d never stoop to that level.”

The alpha tucked a short piece of hair behind Stiles’s ear, “You know, Derek isn’t going to be very happy with me, regardless if I can justify my actions or not.”

“Something tells me... he’ll understand,” Stiles spoke softly, still shaking from explaining everything to Peter, “You’ve always been a person of morals, whether the things you’ve done have been questionably gray, you’re still a decent person.

“I may have been drunk, but I remember it well. I remember that you turned me down a **lot** , and I forced myself on you, and you **still** tried to stop me. But I wanted it. And I don’t regret it, I never have. I didn’t even regret it the day after, when I knew something had happened, and I didn’t know who with. I could still feel how satisfied I’d been from it.

“That’s the difference between a monster, and a man. Someone who respects the wishes of others.” He pulled his chin from Peter’s chest and kissed the skin just by his nipple, his dull nails scratching through the soft dust of hair before he climbed more _onto_ the alpha, moving up and pressing their lips together. 

Peter kissed back almost at once, rising into it and reaching up to cup Stiles’s cheek as he tried not to breathe too harshly from his nose. It had caught him off guard, but he melted into it with ease, the longing he’d felt for the younger man over the past ten or eleven months making itself present in the intensity of the kiss.

“I really hope this isn’t some sort of accident that you’ll regret later,” He breathed out absentmindedly, stroking the younger man’s cheek as tenderly as possible, “I don’t think I could handle it if it was.”

“No, not an accident in the slightest,” Stiles said as he smiled, “I’m tired of hurting other people, I’m tired of hurting you,” he touched Peter’s jaw and kissed along his lips a few times, “And I’m seriously tired of hurting myself. I wanna be with you. I just wanted to make sure we were both... really serious about this. I know you are, it’s pretty obvious you’re actually ready for a **serious** relationship. So am I.”

“If I had known killing a guy was the way to finally win you over I would’ve done it months ago,” Peter joked and smiled, brushing his thumb over Stiles’s bottom lip before kissing him again, “God, I’ve missed kissing you.” The alpha rolled the younger man over, hovering over his smaller body and keeping his weight off of him as he leaned down to kiss him deeply.

Stiles kissed back, reaching up and grabbing Peter’s cheeks, pulling him in and moaning against his lips before breaking away for a moment, “You say that like there was a time when it was like a usual occurrence,” he said, staring into Peter’s eyes as he smiled a bit.

“I’ve kissed you before, enough to crave it when I can’t have it,” Peter raised his brows and smiled, pushing the tip of his nose to the younger man’s, “And let me tell you, it hasn’t exactly been easy watching you give it out to everyone else except for me. I tend to get a little jealous. It’s a nasty quality, really, but what can I say? You bring it out of me.”

“There’s no reason to be jealous,” Stiles said softly as he kept their gazes locked, “Not for you, no reason at all, trust me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, it’s been so long since I’ve updated this fic, as a secondary note, I’m ending it completely here. Not only is it a good place to cut off, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to really complete it if I don’t end it here.    
>  I’m currently werking on original content instead of fanfiction and I just don’t have time to post werks like this. I’ve had a lot of personal problems over the last few months that make it difficult to motivate myself to even look at these fanfics, and really they just a waste of my energy. But I love you guys, I love my readers. So I’m trying. If you want more, there’s my original werk on my Tumblr, and there are fics in the [Vault](http://cammerel.tumblr.com/Fic%20Sorter) that I might not ever even post.   
>  -Cammerel


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